Mind Games
by Sivany
Summary: Set after the sixth book. Draco realises he's not where he's meant to be. Can he and Harry become friends, or maybe something more? HP/DM
1. Close Your Mind

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except the plot line; all the characters etc are JK Rowling's. HP/DM pairing later on.

**Warnings:** At the moment this is just rated T, however the rating may rise in later chapters.

**Beta:** My wonderful friend Candy Marie, who read this so long ago she's probably forgotten what happened:)

**Summary:** Will Harry ever learn to close his mind? Will Draco ever learn to open his?

**Authors Notes:** I stared writing this in the dim and distant past. Just after the sixth book had come out in fact. I did begin posting it here but after a while I stopped and started posting elsewhere and in the end it never got finished. Now I've decided it's about time it was finished so I'm reposting it here. I've rewritten the first few chapters and changed the story title; I'll probably delete the old one when I work out how. As has been noted I started writing this after the sixth book so the events here follow on from there, completely ignoring the seventh book. Since I already had the plotline for the story planned out any events that resemble those from the seventh book are purely coincidental.

Now on with the chapter!

**Chapter 1: **Close Your Mind

Harry couldn't quite remember how it had come to this, how he had got there, how everything had gone so badly wrong. But it had, and now he was standing with his back pressed against a door that was his only means of escape from a room filled with Death Eaters.

There was a deathly silence; all eyes were on one tall figure standing in the middle of the room. A tall figure, who pulled off his hood revealing greasy black hair and a hooked nose. Severus Snape.

Anger coursed through Harry's veins as he looked into the cold black eyes that were now fixing him with a steely gaze.

"The Dark Lord will be here soon" Snape hissed, the satisfaction at having finally captured Harry evident in his voice "I have orders to leave you for him to deal with, but I'm sure he won't mind us having a little fun before he gets here. A little duel perhaps would pass the time." He gave Harry an icy smile as he flourished his wand to the appreciative murmurs of the other Death Eaters.

"Draw your wand then," he ordered coldly. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little duel. We'll even make a rule: no Unforgivable Curses."

Grimacing, Harry pulled out his wand. He remembered what had happened the last time he had tried to fight Snape; everything he had done, said or thought had been anticipated and blocked by the man who had just moments before killed Dumbledore. He knew he was no better at Occlumency now than he had been then.

Snape jerked his head in the semblance of a bow and Harry did the same.

"Expelli…" he began, but the spell blocked by Snape as if it were nothing and countered with one that slammed Harry backwards into the door. His head swimming Harry stumbled forwards and fell to the floor.

"Dear me, Potter, haven't we learnt to close our mind yet," tutted Snape with a cold laugh. "Which of course reminds me of our last meeting. I wouldn't even try using my own spells against me if I were you, Potter."

The reminder of that spell brought the image of Draco Malfoy, lying on the bathroom floor in a pool of his own blood, swimming to the front of Harry's mind. Even now, after all that had happened, the image still horrified him and made him feel sick to his stomach at the thought of what he had done.

"Ah of course, we all know what happened last time you used that spell don't we, Potter. Who would have thought you had it in you to use such dark magic?" Harry felt something inside him snap and before he had even thought about what he was going to say he started shouting.

"I would never have used that spell if I had known what it did! Not even Draco deserved that!" He pushed himself angrily off the ground and glared at Snape, whose face now held a look of slight amusement.

"Well, well, well" he muttered softly, and Harry realised with horror that not only had he called Malfoy "Draco" for the first time in years, but also that Malfoy himself was probably standing in the room with them at that very moment, a black hooded figure indistinguishable from the rest, silently watching his torment.

"The duel is not over yet, Potter." Snape had raised his wand again and cast a hex that Harry barely had time to block. He jumped sideways to avoid a second and wondered what on earth he could use against Snape. Everything he tried was blocked almost before he had finished thinking it.

"Stupi --" he thought desperately pointing his wand at Snape. As he expected Snape blocked it with a lazy flick of his wand, and immediately sent one back. This time it was a curse Harry didn't recognise, and he knew instinctively that it was Dark, perhaps one step away from an Unforgivable. He dived to the floor as the jet of light whizzed over his head and smashed part of the stone wall. He lay there panting, wishing desperately that he could block his thoughts from Snape, and cursing himself for not being able to do it, when suddenly he felt something change. Something barely perceptible had altered inside his head, something that made him haul himself to his feet, wipe his damp hair from his face and ready his wand.

"Not had enough yet, Potter?"

"Impedimenta!" The word seemed to come from his mouth without passing through his brain first. Surprise registered on Snape's face as he blocked it just in time, and then they were duelling so fast that Harry didn't even have time to think. Spells poured from his lips one after the other, sometimes offensive, sometimes defensive, but at least now Snape had no unfair advantage. Somehow Harry had blocked him out, somehow Snape could no longer anticipate his every move. There was no time now to think about the how or why, in fact his mind seemed to be shrouded in fog even to himself; it felt like he wasn't even thinking his own thoughts at all.

"Ridisimass!!" The jet of purple light hit Snape squarely in the chest sending him reeling backwards, and without pausing Harry took advantage of the moment to wrench open the door and flee down the stone passageway. As he went the fog seemed to lift from his mind and he stumbled as his thoughts once again came back under his control.

What had happened in there? What was that spell he had used? Harry was certain he had never seen or heard it before in his life. He had no idea why he had suddenly found himself shouting it, and certainly no idea what it might have done to Snape, although he hoped it was something extremely painful. In fact he wasn't even sure he could remember what it was now. Ridilmace? Ridicinus?

His thoughts were pulled back to the present as he became aware of the shouts of Death Eaters behind him. He concentrated again on running as fast as he could, past doors, down seemingly endless cold stone passageways, trying to remember the way he had come, until he saw the silvery light ahead. The Death Eaters, who knew the passageways so much better than he did, were gaining now, and occasionally a curse would ricochet off the wall behind him. He urged his body onwards, until he finally hurtled out into the pale moonlight and Disapperated.

The night's work was not finished yet.

--------

Draco stood gasping for breath in the passageway as Harry vanished before their eyes. The figures around him, cloaked and masked in black like himself, cursed loudly and turned to make their way back to the room where they had left Snape lying unconscious. Draco trudged along with them, relieved that they could not see his face. Harry had escaped from their clutches once again; there would be hell to pay for this when Voldemort arrived.

He did not know what had made him do it. He did not know what had made him use his unusual gift at Legilimency to block Potter's thoughts from Snape. He did not know why he had helped him escape. He knew only that he had and that somehow he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders, a weight that he didn't know had been there until it had gone. He had gone against everything he knew and everything he had been taught. He had helped the boy who was supposed to be his worst enemy.

Not anymore though. Now things would have to change.

Snape had regained consciousness by the time they arrived back and was not best pleased to hear that Harry had escaped. There was shouting; exchanges of blame. Snape knew Harry was no good at Occlumency; someone must have been helping him, he suspected a clever use of the Imperius Curse. Someone in the room was a spy for the other side.

Draco, standing apart from the rest with his father, heard Snape cast the Legilimency spell and felt Snape's mind probing inside his head, as he would be in the head of everyone in that room. He was ready for him though and luckily not even Snape knew just how good Draco had become at Occlumency, Draco was able to block the truth from him without Snape ever suspecting that there was a truth to hide. Not that Snape would suspect him anyway; after all he was the son of Lucius Malfoy, if there was anyone in the room safe from suspicion it would be him. As Snape withdrew from his head he realised his father was saying something about 'that Potter boy' to him and he forced his attention onto his words, his lips forming suitable replies.

Yes, Father. No, Father. How I hate you Father for dragging me into all this. True, the power had attracted him at first, the idea of being so close to one so powerful was a glamorous one and he had dreamt of becoming a Death Eater himself. Dreamt of being respected, being above the other Death Eaters, becoming Voldemort's confidant who would share his power, like his father always seemed too. How different the reality was.

When had his thinking changed? He wasn't sure exactly. The night of Dumbledore's death had been the night when he could no longer deny his thoughts, but they had started long before that. Perhaps it had been the look on Voldemort's face as he had burned the Dark Mark into his arm. A greedy, self-satisfied look, as if to say, that's one more for me, one more to do my bidding. Then, when Voldemort had threatened to kill him and his family if he failed to kill Dumbledore, he had lived in fear and misery for an entire year. That wasn't how things were supposed to be.

Finally, there had been that time in the bathroom when Potter had cursed him. Even through the blood and the pain he had seen the look of horror on Potter's face, heard the words of regret pouring from his mouth. Harry was supposed to hate him, yet he had shown such compassion when he had unwittingly hurt him so badly. Those whose side he was supposedly on had never shown an ounce of emotion whenever he had been in pain, and had inflicted far worse on him without any regret.

Of course Draco knew why he had helped Harry. It was because of that time in the bathroom and it was because tonight Snape had used him like a plaything for his own amusement, knowing Harry could not make it a fair fight. Draco hadn't known Harry could not do Occlumency until that moment and when Harry had shouted about not meaning to hurt Draco, he had gazed into his memories and found the guilt Harry still felt about that incident. Guilt he felt even now, when he knew Draco was standing amongst the Death Eaters he so hated. Draco knew then he must choose, so he had chosen.

He just hoped it turned out to be the right choice.

------------------------------------------------------------

Well that's it for the first chapter, more to follow soon. In the meantime please leave me a review to let me know what you though!

Sivany


	2. No Going Back

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except the plot line; all the characters etc are JK Rowling's. HP/DM pairing later on.

**Warnings:** At the moment this is just rated T, however the rating may rise in later chapters.

**Beta:** My wonderful friend Candy Marie, who read this so long ago she's probably forgotten what happened:)

**Summary:** Will Harry ever learn to close his mind? Will Draco ever learn to open his?

**Authors Notes:** I really enjoyed writing this chapter (way back when!) so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

**Chapter 2: **No Going Back

Almost an hour later, Draco was back in the tunnels again. Voldemort had arrived. He had been angry beyond anything Draco had ever experienced in his life and had punished them severely with the Cruciatus curse. Then he had dismissed them all , except Snape, and now Draco was trudging along with his father, through the cold damp passageways, his limbs aching in that all too familiar way, towards the entrance where they would be beyond the Anti-Apparition charms. They were going home.

At least his father was going home, Draco wasn't, and he felt an odd ache in the pit of his stomach at this thought. He was about to turn his back on the life he had known, on everything he knew, on his parents. As the realisation of this flashed into his mind he felt himself pale further. True his home life hadn't all been wonderful and idyllic but there had been times... he shook his head slightly to clear these thoughts. Now was not the time to be looking at the past through rose-tinted spectacles. It was too late for that now, he had already made his decision.

Moments later he stepped out into the cold night air by his father's side, for what was probably going to be the last time. His father turned to him with a nod, a nod that was the signal to Disapparate back to the Manor. Draco nodded in acknowledgement and then his father was gone, he was left standing alone, the pale moon the only source of light.

"Goodbye, Father," he murmured, closing his eyes briefly and letting a moment of self-pity engulf him. When he opened them again all trace of emotion was gone. There was no room for regret now; he must concentrate and hope Potter had managed to get where he thought he was going to be.

That was his plan. Get to wherever Potter was and talk to him. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was the best he had come up with so far. There was only one snag. He didn't know where Potter was. True, Draco had seen in his mind the place where he had been going when the Death Eaters had surprised him, but he had no idea whether Potter had gone there once he had escaped, and even less idea where the place was. It had looked to Draco like a deserted stretch of moorland, dark and bleak for miles and miles, Potter could be anywhere on it, if in fact he was on it at all.

Draco knew what he had to do; not only would he have to concentrate on where he wanted to go, he would also need to concentrate on apparating into the space _right next to Harry Potter._ It was going to be tough, but it had to be tried.

Taking a deep breath Draco focused. He had only a little time left before his father realised he was not in the Manor and came back to look for him. He concentrated, he imagined Harry and the moor; he tried to fuse the images together. Harry Potter, the moor, Harry Potter, the moor, Harry Potter…. He stepped forward and vanished.

Then he fell.

It took Draco a split second to realise he had apparated into thin air, took a split second for him to grab wildly at the nearest object, took a split second to realise that he was dangling above roaring flames that licked greedily at his ankles, took a split second to realise that Potter had been riding a broom.

Shit.

--------

Harry had been floating above the moor for a good half hour now and still hadn't figured out a way to get where he needed to be. After leaving the Death Eaters he had apparated back to the place where they had captured him and found his broom lying untouched on the floor of the hut. He had flown rather than apparated to the moor land; after all he hadn't known exactly where on the moor he needed to be and he had no idea what was going to be there. There was no point apparating into a load of trouble after such a narrow escape and if a Muggle happened to be around as he suddenly appeared from thin air things could get very uncomfortable. Besides Harry hated apparating.

He was here now though, and he knew it was the right place; for one thing the circle of flames was a bit of a giveaway. Someone had wanted to protect something that was placed in the middle of that circle. Harry hoped that someone was Voldemort and hoped that something was a Horcrux. The only problem was he had no way of getting to it; water hadn't put out the flames, he hadn't really expected it to, after all that would have been too easy. The only thing so far which had stopped the flames was distance, so Harry had been drifting around just high enough to stop the fire from burning. There was no one around for miles, but Harry wasn't taking any chances.

In truth his mind had been only half on the task, he kept thinking back to what had happened with Snape. He was sure he hadn't suddenly mastered Occlumency, he had been burning up with emotion, there was no way he had cleared his head. Then there was the mystery of where that spell had come from, he was sure now it was not a spell he had ever heard of and found himself wondering how much damage it had done to Snape. A lot he hoped, but still, where had it come from? Had someone else been controlling him? The only way he knew of doing that was the Imperius curse and he was almost certain he hadn't been under that. It had been almost as if there was someone in his head with him, blocking his thoughts from Snape, and replacing them with thoughts that he could not think, but that made his body act seemingly of its own accord. Wait, that didn't make sense, thoughts that he could not think? It was nonsense.

His train of thought was broken as his broom jerked sharply downwards, causing the flames to leap up once again. Something had landed on the back of his broom!

Harry twisted hurriedly, reaching for his wand. There was no one behind him. His gaze dropped, landing on the hooded and cloaked figure that was now dangling by one hand from the back of his broomstick. An involuntary shiver raced down his spine as he recognised the hooded mask as that of the Death Eaters. He watched in fascinated horror and the figure swung wildly for a moment, then seemed to regain his bearings and reach up to his hood.

Harry's thoughts raced. Why had a Death Eater suddenly appeared on the back of his broom? Were there more? Logic told him that if there were more they would surely appear either on their own brooms or on the ground. After all they couldn't all be planning to join him on his broomstick. Clearly something had gone wrong for this one. Maybe he had intended to land on the back of Harry's broom and wrestle him off? Even that didn't make sense though, how would he have known Harry's exact position? How would he have even known Harry would be on a broomstick?

Right now there was no time to think about that. Harry snapped his attention back to the Death Eater and readied his wand. His gaze fell on the hand gripping the broom handle; the fingers were long and pale, Harry was surprised they had enough strength to grip so tightly and he realised how very easy it would be to prise those fingers away, to let the Death Eater fall to a fiery doom.

Below him the Death Eater tugged at his hood and Harry realised with some surprise that he was pulling it off. Pale blonde hair glowed in the dancing flames and the figure released the hood, allowing it to be consumed by the hungry fire below. Then he looked up. Silver grey eyes, pale skin, blonde hair.

"Malfoy!"

--------

Harry blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Somehow now he realised it was Draco Malfoy hanging from his broom most of his fear had disappeared. Malfoy might be a Death Eater now, but he was a familiar enemy. Harry had been around him and had been fighting with him nearly everyday since he was eleven, give or take a few summer holidays. Yes he was afraid of what might come next; and yes he was afraid that there would be other Death Eaters nearby, waiting for some sort of signal from Malfoy; but he could not fear Malfoy himself.

"Malfoy, what are you doing?" It was a stupid question Harry realised, especially if Malfoy was part of some plan the Death Eaters had to recapture him, but the strange relief Harry felt had made the question come out of nowhere.

"I'm hanging one handed from your broomstick, in the middle of nowhere, above some sort of raging inferno by the looks of things Potter." Malfoy snapped back, his face twisting into his trademark sneer. "Unless of course you want to tell me something different." Harry recoiled slightly; that wasn't the sort of reply he'd been expecting, although come to think of it he hadn't really known what he was expecting. His mouth tried to form several questions at once.

"How did you get here?" he stammered finally. That was another pointless question he realised. Shouldn't he be asking him about why he was here? About whether he should expect more Death Eaters to suddenly arrive to take him prisoner once again?

"I Apparated Potter, what do you think. It's not like I just fell out of the sky." Malfoy made a grab for the broom with his free hand, causing it to sway dangerously. "Are you going to give me a hand or what?"

Wordlessly and unable to think what else to do, Harry clutched at Draco's free hand and, after some effort, managed to haul him up high enough for him to hook a leg over the broomstick. Draco swung himself up, and for one brief moment clutched at Harry's waist to steady himself, then his hands were gone and Harry could only watch in silence as he pulled the black robes over his head and then let those too fall into the flames below.

The flames! Harry hoped no Muggles had noticed them. He pulled the broomstick upwards sharply, forcing Malfoy to once again clutch at his waist to keep his balance. The flames vanished suddenly and both Harry and Draco had to blink a few times as their eyes adjusted to seeing only by the pale light of the full moon.

--------

"They've gone!" Draco stated somewhat obviously, before realising that his hands were still gripping Harry's waist tighter than was strictly necessary. He pulled them away hastily, although luckily Harry didn't appear to notice.

Instead they hovered there not moving for a few moments, before Harry twisted round and looked at him again with raised eyebrows.

"You're wearing Muggle clothes." Harry's voice sounded unnaturally loud now the roaring of the flames had gone. Draco glanced down at his attire: black jeans, black trainers, long sleeved black t-shirt to hide the ugly mark on his arm.

"Yeah." His mouth was suddenly very dry Now that he was seated safely on the broom and floating quietly above what looked like an ordinary deserted moorland, Draco was beginning to realise how odd the situation must appear. So far Potter actually appeared to be taking things quite well considering, and he hadn't hexed Draco yet, which was always a good sign as far as he was concerned. Harry was still looking at him strangely and Draco realised that he was even more unsure about what to do next than Draco was. The realisation brought back some of his Malfoy self-assurance and he relaxed slightly.

"So Potter, care to tell me what you're doing?" he drawled, casually flexing the fingers that were aching from supporting his weight for so long.

--------

Harry looked at him almost incredulously. "What do you mean, what am I doing?" he spluttered, half out of rage, half out of amazement. He was starting to feel like he had missed a very important part of a very important conversation. This was not supposed to happen. Moments ago his biggest worry had been how to get past seemingly impenetrable magical flames. Now he had to deal with the fact that Malfoy had just appeared from nowhere, for no discernable reason and was asking him what he was doing as if this were a normal everyday occurrence.

"Never mind what I'm doing, what are you doing? How did you know I was here? Why did you Apparate onto my broomstick?" Harry's voice was beginning to sound high and panicked but he didn't care "Are there more of you? Is this some sort of attack?" He paused and took a deep breath to calm himself slightly before he asked the most important question of all. If only he had the answer to this he felt that it might all make sense. "Why have you just thrown away your robes?"

Draco sighed and rubbed his hand across his eyes "Hold it, Potter, one question at a time." He took a deep breath "I saw where you would be in your head. I was trying to Apparate to wherever you were. I didn't know you'd be on a broomstick. I didn't mean to Apparate onto it, or off it as it turned out." He gave a twisted sort of smile, "No, there are no more of us. No, it isn't an attack. And I threw them away because I won't be needing them anymore."

"..." Harry blinked, his mouth moved for a second, but no sound came out. What exactly was Malfoy saying?

"You won't need them anymore?" The question came out in a rush, as if he was afraid to say it in case the answer wasn't what he expected.

"No, Potter, I won't be needing them anymore." Draco's eyes pierced into his, as if daring him to challenge what he had just said. Daring him to ask why. Harry let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding and understood what Malfoy had left unspoken. He had switched sides. That was it, end of discussion. There would be no why, there would be no doubtful questioning, there would be no surprised remarks. Not here, not now, not yet...

There was one thing though that needed to be asked, something Harry could not let go. "Was it you earlier? In my head?" Draco scowled and nodded briefly; Harry opened his mouth to ask how and why, but closed it swiftly again. That was all he was going to get, he realised. He had to decide here and now whether to trust Malfoy, and if he made the wrong decision everything would be lost. If he trusted Malfoy he would probably have to let him in on what was going on right now, and that was something that only his closest friends knew. If he trusted Malfoy and Malfoy were not trustworthy, Voldemort would find out just how much Harry knew about how to destroy him and the consequences didn't bear thinking about. But what if Malfoy was trustworthy and he turned him away? He had already betrayed Voldemort and without The Order's protection he would probably be dead before another day was out.

How could he make that decision? He found himself thinking back to the events of the last year: the night of Dumbledore's death and how Malfoy had acted on the Tower. This was the first time he had seen him since that dreadful night. Dumbledore's death had been Malfoy's fault, how could he trust him now after all that had happened?

His thoughts returned to this evening and the strange events that had taken place. He would probably be dead now if Malfoy hadn't helped him back in those cellars, he didn't know how or why Malfoy had helped him, but when Malfoy said it was him Harry found himself believing him; he was sure there had been no one else present who would have done such a thing. Of course it could all be a trick, designed to make him trust Malfoy. Dumbledore had trusted Snape and look what that had led to.

Sighing heavily, he lifted his gaze from the ground below and looked at Malfoy properly for the first time in years. His white-blonde hair shone silvery in the moonlight, outlining his pale, finely chiselled features. He was toned, perhaps more muscular than he appeared at first glance, but still he looked too thin for his height. For the first time Harry found himself noticing both this and the dark circles under Malfoy's eyes. Silver grey eyes that held no emotion; that simply looked back into Harry's own, waiting for a decision.

Slowly Harry held out his hand.

Draco shook it.

------------------------------------------------------------

So another chapter up! The next one will be coming soon. In the meantime please leave me a review to let me know what you though!

-Sivany


	3. Wrapped In Flames

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except the plot line; all the characters etc are JK Rowling's. HP/DM pairing later on.

**Warnings:** At the moment this is just rated T, however the rating may rise in later chapters.

**Beta:** My wonderful friend Candy Marie, who read this so long ago she's probably forgotten what happened:)

**Summary:** Will Harry ever learn to close his mind? Will Draco ever learn to open his?

**Authors Notes:** I don't want to cause over-excitement, but things start heating up a bit in this chapter!!

**Chapter 3: **Wrapped In Flames

Draco shook Harry's hand rather awkwardly. He was relieved Harry hadn't demanded any further explanations; long speeches about how he had seen the error of his ways and was prepared to risk his life to do the right thing weren't really his style, and he felt an uncharacteristic sense of gratitude towards Harry. Why Harry had decided to trust him Draco didn't know; he wasn't sure he would have done and he knew he was genuine. Now though wasn't the time to put the delicate new truce to the test by asking probing questions. Besides Draco's curiosity was firmly occupied with another matter: why exactly was Harry choosing to spend his night floating over a moor that appeared prone to spontaneous combustion?

Determined to find out Draco looked across and realised Harry was staring silently at him, a slight frown on his face, as if he was thinking hard about something. The look brought a fleeting smile to Draco's lips, although he didn't know why. Maybe because even after all that had happened there was still a hint of innocence in that frown, as if the worries that caused it did not sit too heavily on Harry's heart.

"So Potter, I answered your questions, now it's my turn." Draco smirked, well aware that he hadn't exactly given detailed answers and hoping that Harry was more forthcoming. "What are you doing here? And why was the ground on fire?"

For a moment Harry looked startled at being spoken to, then he groaned "It's some sort of magical protection. Every time I get too near the flames come back. I thought maybe I could fly over the top and into the middle, but it's impossible. Look." He lowered the broom slightly causing the flames to spring up again. Draco gazed down and had just enough time to see what Harry was talking about before he swept the broomstick back upwards, extinguishing the fires.

"You saw the small circle in the middle where the surrounding flames curl over in a sort of dome to protect it?" Harry asked, waiting for Draco's nod of confirmation before continuing "Well that's where I need to go."

Harry turned back round with a sigh of resignation and Draco thought for a moment before asking his next question.

"Why?"

---------

As Harry turned away from Draco he knew what was coming next. He had turned his back to try and prevent the question, although he knew his tactic was useless. He might not have known Draco that well, but he knew, or suspected enough to realise, that Draco was not only used to having his own way, but that he was also stubborn and not going to be easily put off satisfying his curiosity.

Of course Harry could refuse to tell him, but then what would he do with Draco whilst he tried to get at the Horcrux? He didn't want to waste time taking him back and leaving him in the care of the other Order members. There would be awkward questions, demands for explanations that Malfoy wasn't yet willing to give and possibly nasty scenes involving Veritaserum. Harry couldn't explain why, but he felt that if Malfoy wasn't ready to talk about his reasons for deserting Voldemort, and on top of that, his parents, then he should respect that. Perhaps it was because he himself had often felt like that, sometimes wanting to keep explanations and reasons to himself for a while, before sharing them even with his closest friends. Whatever the reason though, Harry sensed very deeply that he should not take Malfoy back to that just yet.

He briefly considered taking Malfoy somewhere and leaving him until he'd managed to get the Horcrux himself, but somehow that seemed so cold and untrusting. True, he still wasn't completely sure if Malfoy could be trusted, but nevertheless it still didn't seem right. Which meant there was only one choice: he would have to tell Malfoy the truth.

--------

Draco felt his question hanging in the air as he gazed at Harry's silent, unmoving form. He knew Harry was unsure whether to tell him and so didn't interrupt whilst he thought about it. Instead he amused himself by staring at Harry's dark hair and wondering how it always looked so stylishly mussed up. He was pretty sure Harry didn't spend anytime getting it to look that way, he probably just rolled out of bed in the morning with his hair looking gorgeous.

Draco blinked in surprise at his odd train of thought; obviously the events of the night were getting to him. He quickly shook away those thoughts and instead wondered if Potter had decided not to answer his question after all. From the long silence it was beginning to seem that way. He looked up slowly, a frown of annoyance already creeping across his features, and found himself starring straight into Harry's emerald eyes.

"When Voldemort tried to kill me," Harry began, his voice sounding slightly shaky, "the curse rebounded on him, but it didn't kill him even though it should have done. Do you know why?" Draco shook his head, this was something he had often wondered about but never dared ask his father. "He had split his soul so he couldn't die. Do you know about Horcruxes?" This time Draco nodded, learning about them had been part of his father's idea of education. "There's one of Voldemort's down there, I need to get to it."

"To destroy it?"

Harry nodded and they both fell silent. After a few minutes Draco realised he was still staring into Harry's eyes and tore his gaze away, instead looking at the ground below them. He was sure Harry knew more about the Horcrux than he had revealed, but Draco wasn't about to press for anymore information. Harry had already told him more than he had anticipated and he was appreciative of the gesture even if he didn't show it. He had expected to be treated with suspicion and contempt and had even been prepared to dodge a few hexes; instead Harry had decided to trust him and was now offering up information about what he was trying to do to defeat Voldemort. It didn't take a genius to work out that Harry was obviously trying to destroy Voldemort's Horcrux so that Voldemort himself would become mortal, and Draco was more than intelligent enough to make that connection.

After another few minutes of silence had passed Draco realised that this wasn't actually getting them any closer to solving the mystery of how to get through the flames. He was also somewhat amazed to realise that the silence hadn't been an awkward one, caused by neither of them having anything to say to the other, but had been perfectly comfortable, each leaving the other to think his own private thoughts about what had just happened. This small revelation and the information Harry had just given him kicked Draco's brain into action. As long as he was here he might as well help.

"So…" he began. His sudden breaking of the silence shook Harry from his thoughts.

"So what?" he replied looking slightly confused.

"If we're going to get to that Horcrux we really should get started. Let's have another look at those flames."

Harry looked at him oddly for a moment, and then a slight smile passed across his face. Moments later the flames sprang back up around the lowered broomstick and the two of them gazed down at the flames, both searching for some clue.

----------

"Look over there." Draco suddenly pointed at the edge of the circle after several long minutes had passed, "The flames don't come from the ground." Harry followed where Draco pointed and for the first time noticed that the flames seemed to curl over as they did in the centre of the circle, perhaps forming a sort of archway. Wondering how he hadn't spotted it before and reluctant to admit Malfoy was right, Harry nodded. Immediately Draco folded his arms, a smug expression gracing his features.

"Can't believe you didn't spot that Potter," he smirked. "Good job I turned up, you could have been floating here all night." Harry frowned, wondering if he had been right to let Malfoy stay, and seriously contemplating pushing him into the flames if he was planning on gloating further. The next moment though the smirk was gone, but not before Harry had seen the briefest hint of a teasing smile play over Malfoy's lips.

"Whatever Malfoy," he sighed, rolling his eyes as he lowered the broom to the ground. They both dismounted and Harry left the broom hovering where it wasn't about to be consumed by the nearest flame, but was still within easy reach should anything unexpected happen. Now he was on the ground standing just a few metres from the 8-feet tall wall of fire, he could see that there was indeed an archway in the flames, but that it barely went half a metre into the circle, a distance he could cover in a step. No wonder he had missed it before when he had been circling the fire over and over again, you had to know it was there to distinguish it from the rest.

Draco had walked right up to the archway, and Harry followed, trying to ignore the searing heat from the fire and grateful that at least there was no smoke from the flames. Suddenly without warning Draco stepped forwards as if to enter the arch and automatically Harry grabbed his arm to pull him back.

"Malfoy what do you think you're doing?" he hissed sharply. Much as Malfoy annoyed him, he wasn't about to let him get burnt to death.

"Aw Potter, I didn't know you cared." There was that twisted sort of smile again and Harry dropped Malfoy's arm, giving an annoyed groan.

"Fine then," he snapped, allowing Malfoy to once again step towards the arch. It was only just wide enough and deep enough for Draco to stand in, but as soon as he entered, the flames in front of him seemed to die down, although the tunnel didn't get any wider.

"Blimey it's hot in here!" Draco yelled above the crackling of the flames, shuffling forwards further as the path opened up in front of him.

"Blimey?" Harry couldn't help the sudden burst of laughter that erupted from him, "What sort of word is that?"

Then just as suddenly he stopped laughing, eyes widening in horror. Malfoy had disappeared. Harry stood looking at a solid wall of flames.

--------

"Malfoy?" Harry was rooted to the spot in fear, what if Malfoy had been burnt alive, trapped suddenly as the flames closed in on him? Not even Malfoy deserved that fate. "Malfoy?" He repeated, this time more loudly as his feet finally co-operated and he ran towards the flames. The heat was incredible, Malfoy hadn't been exaggerating before and now he was trapped inside with no means of escape. Or possibly he was already beyond any wish of escaping.

"Malfoy, where are you? Malfoy? Malfoy!!" Harry was beginning to panic now as thoughts of what might have happened filled him with horror. What had he done? Why had he allowed Malfoy to just walk into the flames like that? He'd let his pride get in the way of his common sense, one silly little remark from Malfoy and now Harry had gone and let him get himself killed.

With no way into the flames Harry was at a loss as to what to do. He had half thought of flying overhead to see if he could see where Draco was; if he was there at all, but instead found himself pulling out his wand and sending a stream of water at the flames that now burned where the archway had been. Just as before the water hissed away into nothing as soon as it touched the fire, having no effect on them whatsoever.

"Malfoy are you in there?! Can you hear me?!" Harry's voice was now a panicked shout "Malfoy answer me! Draco!!"

To Harry's great relief the archway suddenly opened again and a very hot, rather grumpy looking Draco emerged.

--------

"It's like being roasted alive in there!" Draco moaned as he stepped away from the archway, feeling distinctly sweaty and uncomfortable. "Pretty good defence, just make sure anyone who tries to get through ends up cooked." For the first time he noticed the look on Harry's face, who was standing there looking both concerned and confused at the same time. "What's up Potter? Don't tell me you were worried about me?"

"You… you disappeared!" Harry desperately tried to collect his thoughts. He wasn't about to give Malfoy the pleasure of knowing that he had been worried about him. "What happened? Where did you go?"

"When you get a certain distance in, the flames start to close in behind you as you move forwards. When I realised I came back." He gave his characteristic smirk before continuing, "After all I wouldn't want you to start worrying about me."

Draco wasn't about to admit that when the flames started closing in behind him he had been terrified and had come back because he couldn't stand being alone surrounded by nothing but the heat and noise of the fire. When the flames had opened up just in time for him to hear Harry's panicked shout of his name, he had never been so pleased to see him in his life.

--------

"I wasn't worried about you" Harry lied "I was just concerned that the path had closed and I wouldn't be able to get through to the Horcrux." Actually the thought of getting to the Horcrux had never crossed his mind, and when the flames had opened and Draco had stepped out, he had never been so pleased to see him in his life.

--------

"Whatever Potter." Draco shrugged, he knew that Harry had actually for a fleeting instant been worried about his safety and had even called him by his first name. It made him feel good inside in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. Someone had actually been worried about him, not for selfish reasons of their own, but simply because they did not want to see him hurt. Suddenly his past seemed a very long way away.

Not that he was about to let Potter in on any of that. He pushed his damp hair back from his forehead and motioned towards the archway.

"So I guess we should both go in together this time. I'll go first, you follow." He hadn't liked feeling of the flames closing in behind his back, if Harry went last it would be his back the flames closed in on.

Harry opened his mouth to make an objection; Malfoy should stay behind, or at least allow him to go in front. After all this wasn't Malfoy's quest, it was supposed to have been something Harry had to do alone, and now Malfoy had randomly turned up and was taking over. Before he could say anything Malfoy had already strode into the archway and was looking over his shoulder, waiting for Harry to join him. Deciding not to waste time on an argument Harry quickly trotted over.

"Ready?" asked Draco. Harry nodded and Draco began to walk slowly forwards. The rate the flames opened up meant that they both had to take small shuffling steps and as they made their slow progress inwards Harry began to feel a strange sense of foreboding.

It was horrible inside the archway; the flames leapt eight feet high on either side and met overhead forming a strange tunnel of fire. All Harry could see was flames, unless he twisted his neck round to see the way they had come: a thin strip of black outlined by the brightness of the fire. Any moment now he knew that darkness would disappear.

"I feel like I'm cooking!" he yelled to Draco, turning back round to face the front. Already only a few moments into their journey he could feel the sweat trickling down his face.

"I told you it was hot," was Draco's only answer. Harry could barely hear him above the noise from the fire, especially since he was trying to keep a respectable gap between him and Malfoy, being so narrow the tunnel was claustrophobic enough without them banging into each other and making things worse. Besides he had no wish to get any closer to Malfoy than he already was.

A sudden crackling noise made them both stop and turn round. The entrance had begun to close and the flames came together so fast Harry had to step backwards to avoid them. When they stopped Draco and Harry were left standing in a space barely wide enough to let them pass and not even a metre long, surrounded by orange and red flames so bright it made their eyes hurt, so loud they could barely hear each other and so hot Harry felt he was about to pass out.

"Come on, we better keep going." Draco's voice made him turn round ready to start their journey again. As they shuffled forwards this time, Harry kept checking over his shoulders at the flames behind, he was sure they were getting closer on his heels and began to shuffle a bit faster to keep ahead of them, almost bumping into Malfoy in his haste. Soon Harry was tripping over Malfoy's heels with nearly every step, something he had been trying to avoid from the start. Now _this _was awkward.

"Move a bit faster, will you!" he snapped impatiently.

"I can only move as fast as the flames open up." Draco snapped back, as Harry craned his neck to check the progress of the flames behind. They were still creeping closer and Harry shuffled forwards again. The flames continued to get closer. Harry shuffled forwards some more, but was stopped as his body hit something solid in front of him. Panicking about the flames, which were still creeping closer, Harry pressed himself into the obstruction, not even thinking about what it might be. The flames stopped, mere inches from his back and Harry turned round in relief, almost knocking heads with Malfoy.

"I know I'm gorgeous Potter, but do you think you could resist whatever urges you may be having until we get out of this." Malfoy drawled sarcastically, a wicked gleam in his eye as he looked over his shoulder at Harry.

"Shut up Malfoy." Harry snapped back angrily, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he realised his chest was pressed against Malfoy's back. "In case you hadn't noticed the flames are right behind me, I can't move any further back. Why did you stop?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, the flames in front stopped opening, I had to stop," came the scathing reply. "You were the one who kept going, I'd have thought you would rather be burned alive than get so close to me."

"Well I'd have thought you'd rather be burned alive than end up in a position like this as well." Harry retorted.

"Shut it, Potter." Draco sighed, turning back to face the front. "How about we actually try to get out of this position rather than arguing about what we think of it?"

Harry was surprised; Malfoy had not only failed to argue back, but had also been the voice of reason that reminded him that this wasn't getting them anywhere. He actually felt vaguely ashamed for a moment, but then the remembrance that it was Malfoy who had started the argument stopped that feeling in its tracks. Most likely the only reason Malfoy had stopped the argument was that he hadn't been able to think of a cutting reply.

--------

Draco turned back round hoping that his ending of the argument wouldn't seem too obvious. The truth was he didn't want to argue with Harry right now. Sure he wasn't going to stop winding him up, after all that was half the fun of being around Harry, he was easy to wind up, but Draco wasn't looking for a full blown argument. Besides there was something else as well, something Draco could barely even admit to himself. He was actually enjoying having Harry pressed up against him.

Well actually, maybe not Harry in particular, maybe it didn't matter that it was Harry, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that it had been a long time, too long since he had been this close to another human being. He told himself he didn't need contact, emotional or physical with anyone else, and until now he had believed it himself, but now he was beginning to think that he might. Despite the fact that they were both hot and sweaty, and no matter how many layers of clothes were between them, Draco still felt a slight tingle run through his body at the feeling of closeness.

The sudden feel of Harry's breath on the side of his face told him that Harry was now looking over his right shoulder, and he too directed his gaze to the flames ahead, squinting against their brightness.

Suddenly he saw it. Just for a second it was there in the flames, he heard Harry's sharp intake of breath and knew he had seen it too.

"The Dark Mark." Harry whispered. He didn't need to say it any louder for Draco to hear, the noise of the fire now seemed to him only like a dull drone in the background. There was just him and Harry and the awful knowledge of what he had to do next.

"What do we do now?" Harry's voice sounded unnaturally loud to Draco's ears and he didn't know whether to be relieved or more worried that Harry hadn't worked it out yet. If he didn't know now, he certainly would in a moment and then what would he think of Draco? It was a reminder Draco certainly didn't want to give him, a reminder of something that just moments ago had seemed so far away.

Draco realised his hands were shaking and hoped his entire body wasn't trembling too. He took a breath to steady his voice before speaking.

"My wand is in my back pocket. Pass it to me quickly."

--------

Harry was rather puzzled, both by Malfoy's request for his wand and by the fact that Malfoy seemed to be trembling slightly. It was a strange feeling to be pressed so close to a body that was shaking in that way, it made Harry want to put his arms around him and comfort him, even if it was Malfoy.

Instead Harry attempted to extract Malfoy's wand with as little movement as possible, and was actually rather relieved to do so for it had been sticking uncomfortably into his stomach for the last few minutes. He managed to pass it to Malfoy by weaving his arm round Malfoy's waist, then without thinking Harry dropped his hand so it was resting on Malfoy's hip.

Slowly Malfoy raised the wand and muttered an incantation Harry could not hear. Something like black smoke shot out the end of the wand and into the fire in front of them. It took Harry's eyes a moment to adjust and realise that the smoke had twisted itself into the shape of the Dark Mark.

All at once Harry realised why Draco had been so nervous and suddenly found himself feeling quite sorry for him. He also realised where his hand was resting and snatched it away quickly hoping Draco hadn't noticed. The Dark Mark hung in the flames almost mockingly for a moment and then there was nothing but miles of deserted moor and a strange stone pedestal in front of them.

--------

Draco felt Harry's hand drop from where it had been resting comfortably on his hip as soon as the Dark Mark appeared. It was the reaction Draco had been expecting; after all the Mark was a reminder that Draco was a Death Eater; that he had been trained in the ways of the Death Eaters; that he was marked.

Draco hardly noticed the flames had disappeared until he felt Harry step away from him, leaving him standing there feeling more than just the physical absence of Harry's warmth. It had been so easy, too easy to pretend the last year had never happened, to slip back into taunting Harry merely because that's what he did. Too easy to forget the past and slip into a strange sort of alliance with Harry, where they worked together towards the same goal. Too easy to feel he was trusted and think thoughts he had not thought for a long time. Too easy to shatter it all with one simple incantation.

"I thought I'd never have to do that again," he mumbled, rubbing his hand across his eyes. "I really didn't want… I mean… I…." He trailed off; unable to form a sentence that might make it all better, that might explain how he felt. Sorry was probably the word he was looking for, but he did not think to say sorry, sorry was not a word Draco had been taught to use.

--------

Harry stood quietly as Draco struggled to find the words he wanted. Harry could see in his eyes what he was thinking; he thought that by creating the Dark Mark he had somehow broken Harry's trust. Even though it had been the only way out of the flames, even though Harry wouldn't have known how to do it and even though if Draco hadn't been there Harry would have been stuck wrapped in flames forever. The thought made Harry's blood run cold. Lucky for him Draco had been there really, so why did Draco not see it that way?

Draco was still looking at him silently, waiting for him to say something and Harry wasn't sure what to say. This was a side of Malfoy he hadn't seen before, a side that was frightened of the consequences of his actions. Usually Malfoy seemed so confident and sure of himself; most of the time he was beyond arrogant! Malfoy's confidence wasn't just a front, Harry was sure it ran deeper than that, but it seemed even Malfoy had a side that wasn't so sure of himself. Then again, maybe he had seen this before; hadn't he caught Malfoy crying in the bathroom last year? Harry still wasn't sure what he thought of that, but here and now he knew there was a simple way to make things better again.

"Well I might have been accused of it, but I can't really see me doing that spell," he laughed, mimicking Draco's smirk. "Suppose we better look at this pedestal now."

"I told you it was a good job I turned up when I did." Draco drawled, after a short pause to let the meaning of Harry's words sink in. He pulled off a much better smirk than Harry's and Harry turned away to look at the pedestal, hiding his relieved smile as he did so.

Trust takes only a moment to shatter, but this was not that moment.

------------------------------------------

Hehe I didn't say how they were heating up :D Sorry I couldn't resist! Please review to let me know what you thought. Next chapter will be coming in the next few days.

- Sivany


	4. Language of Magic

**Disclaimer:** I don't really have to write this all over again do I? Points at previous 3 chapters I'm sure you get the idea.

**Beta:** My wonderful friend Candy Marie, who read this so long ago she's probably forgotten what happened :)

**Authors Notes:** Sorry it has taken so long to post this, I came down with a horrible cold so it got delayed. I'm feeling much better now though and the next chapter will hopefully be up Sunday.

**Chapter 4: **Language Of Magic

The large square pedestal stood on a wide circle of stone and was ornately decorated with engravings. Across the front were glowing white lines which Harry recognised as the same as those he had seen in the cave with Dumbledore.

"Surely not again?" he whispered, remembering Dumbledore's words that night "Surely he would not have been so crude?"

"What is it?" Draco stepped up onto the stone circle next to him and Harry jerked round in surprise, for a moment he had forgotten Malfoy was there, he had been back in the cave with Dumbledore on that terrible night.

Bringing himself back to the present he fished around in his robes. He had prepared as much as he could for tonight without actually knowing what he would be facing, and one of the things he had brought was a knife. Carefully he ran the sharp silver blade across his palm, gritting his teeth against the pain, and heard a sharp intake of breath from Malfoy.

"The pedestal has the Horcrux inside it, it will only open with a payment of blood," he explained, wiping his hand across the front of the pedestal. "At least I hope it will."

Slowly the front of the pedestal opened, revealing seven beautiful golden cups and one scroll of parchment, lit by an eerie green light coming from the heart of the pedestal itself. Harry stared at them in amazement; whatever it was he had been expecting this was certainly not it.

"How did you know?" Draco's voice betrayed his surprise.

"I've seen something like this before. It's very crude and too simple really, I would have expected more from Voldemort." Harry didn't want to reveal more to Malfoy just yet; he didn't want him to know about the Horcruxes already found and destroyed. Besides he was surprised that Voldemort had chosen to use the same defence on two of his Horcruxes; Harry had expected something more difficult, just like Dumbledore had in the cave.

He reached forward to take the scroll but was stopped when Draco grabbed his hand, wand drawn. For a moment their eyes met, then gently Draco turned Harry's palm upwards and ran his wand across the cut. At once the silvery light seemed to knit the cut together, just as Snape had once healed Draco in the bathroom at Hogwarts.

"Thanks," said Harry softly, when Draco released his hand.

"You really should learn some healing spells." Draco replied, arching one blonde eyebrow. "Especially if you're going to go round slicing your own hand when surely a prick on the finger would have worked just as well."

Harry shrugged, feeling a little stupid and wondering why he hadn't thought of that; after all on the way out of the cave the small amount of blood from his grazed hand had been enough. Draco was probably right; a single drop was all that was required.

Again he reached out for the scroll, half wondering if there would be something to stop him. There was nothing. He lifted the scroll without any sort of resistance, but as he did so he noticed for the first time that three of the seven cups were filled with a strange silvery liquid. He shuddered involuntarily, praying that he wouldn't have to drink any of it.

The scroll was slightly brittle around the edges, hardly surprising since it was probably over 20 years old, and when Harry unrolled it he could see it was covered with a close set green script, written in the same hand he had seen in Riddle's diary 5 years ago. Unfortunately it was written in some sort of strange language Harry couldn't understand. Parts of the words looked like spells or incantations, and some of it was set out rather like the riddle he and Hermione had encountered in their first year at Hogwarts, but apart from that there was nothing to give him any clue as to its meaning. He groaned and squinted at the parchment, as if screwing up his eyes might make the meaning become clear.

Draco, who had been attempting to get a look at the parchment over Harry's shoulder, finally lost patience and yanked Harry's arm to turn the parchment towards him. Immediately he gave a small exclamation of surprise that snapped Harry's attention to him.

"It's Latin," he stated simply in reply to Harry's enquiring look and then pulled the parchment from Harry's unresisting hands.

"Latin?" Harry repeated somewhat lost for words. "You speak Latin?"

"Of course I do Potter." Draco rolled his eyes, as if this should have been obvious to anyone "Latin is one of the main languages of magic, didn't you realise that most spells have Latin origins?" Harry shook his head; this wasn't something he had given much thought to, although he suddenly realised this would account for him recognising parts of the words on the scroll. Draco rolled his eyes again. "All Malfoys can speak Latin, my father insisted I learn it. My name comes from the Latin word for Dragon, surely you knew that?" Harry nodded. He had been told what the school motto translated as in his first year, and it was a small leap to realise the origin of Draco's name.

"Well I suppose you're not a complete loss then," Draco consented. "Now keep quiet, I haven't really studied any Latin for a while, it's a difficult language, very easy to mistranslate." Obediently Harry fell silent as Draco frowned in concentration occasionally murmuring to himself as he ran his eyes over the words.

At first Harry stood looking at the scroll as well, but any meaning in it eluded him and he soon became bored with this. He was also thinking again how lucky it had been that Malfoy had decided to desert Voldemort and come to find Harry tonight, when Harry could most use his help. For a moment it crossed his mind that this might be an elaborate plot by Voldemort to lull him into a false sense of security in Malfoy's presence. Perhaps he had sent Malfoy knowing that he would be of use to Harry tonight and would thereby be able to gain his trust more easily. Suddenly worried, Harry looked up at Malfoy, who was still studying the scroll, his lips moving soundlessly as he struggled to translate it. Somehow when he looked at him, Harry found he could not doubt his trustworthiness.

For want of anything better to do Harry turned again to the cups inside the pedestal. He knew one of them was the Horcrux, the cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff that he had seen in Dumbledore's pensive, but he didn't know which one, they all looked exactly the same. If only there was some clue to tell him which was the right one. Without thinking he reached out a hand towards the cups.

"Don't touch them." Draco's voice broke Harry's reflections and made him pull his hand away sharply. Looking round Harry saw that Draco's eyes were already back on the parchment, but now his right hand was clutching at his left arm and his face was twisted into a sort of half grimace as if he was in pain. The Dark Mark was burning Harry realised, Voldemort was calling his supporters to his side and Draco was not responding.

--------

Draco gripped his arm tighter, trying to ignore the incessant pain. At first the burning had been the all too familiar pain of Voldemort calling the Death Eaters to his side and Draco had thought that was all it was; after all his father would surely have noticed his absence by now. That pain usually lasted a minute at most, this one however had continued and Draco was sure that since he had started reading the parchment it had got much worse. It felt as if one hundred needles were pricking into his arm and burning him at the same time. He was beginning to wonder if this was some sort of defence to stop Death Eaters from getting at the Horcrux; Voldemort would surely have used extra protection in case anyone in his inner circle, who would know more about his ways and methods, decided to turn against him. Draco said nothing to Harry about his suspicions and when he noticed him looking at his arm moved his hand away quickly, gritting his teeth against the pain. He wasn't about to back out now. If he gave up Harry would not be able to get to the Horcrux and Draco felt that would be breaking his trust in him. He had made his decision and he had said he would help, so was just going to have to live with the pain.

"This is very complicated," he sighed at last, pushing a few strands of hair from his face. "Even if this were in English it would be difficult." He sat down on the edge of the circle of stone and looked up at Harry, who luckily took the cue and sat down next to him. "There are seven cups and according to this each one has a name. Three of the cups contain liquids, which although they look the same are three separate potions." He pointed carefully to part of the parchment where the words seem to form some sort of verse. "This looks like it's some sort of riddle to work out which cup is which and which potion is in each one."

"It's logic! _Some of the best wizards don't have an ounce of logic_." Harry interjected and Draco was surprised to see he had a smile on his face which seemed to light him up from the inside and shine out through his eyes.

"Just something Hermione once said," Harry explained, obviously thinking his strange outburst was the only reason for Draco's stare. "Carry on."

"Right… um…" Draco attempted to remember what he was saying before those rather strange thoughts had taken over. "Next there's some instructions about which potion to pour into which cup and the order to do it all in, again they are quite complicated, especially since they were written in such a way to give no clues to the riddle above. Even in English they'd be a nightmare to untangle, in Latin it's going to be even trickier. You can't take the cup with the Horcrux until you have done all of that. If you get it wrong…." He trailed off and stared at the parchment again. "Well it doesn't exactly say what will happen, but I imagine it won't be good."

Draco fixed his eyes on the horizon, not wanting to look at Harry. He was feeling more uncertain about all this by the second. Sure he could read Latin, but this was far more complicated than even the hardest texts his father had made him translate. Plus there was the problem of actually working out the riddle as well. Latin was a funny language; one slight mistake in the translation of a tense or a verb and the entire meaning could be changed, although it would still appear to make sense. What if he got it wrong and chose the wrong cup?

"I don't know if I can do this Harry." His voice was low and emotionless and he didn't take his eyes off the horizon as he spoke.

--------

Harry. Draco had just called him Harry.

He had thought that would never happen, but somehow now in this situation it didn't seem that odd. After all, he would never thought Draco would be helping him to destroy Voldemort. That was odd enough; everything else paled in comparison. Besides there were more important things to worry about now; he certainly couldn't translate the scroll himself, so Draco was his only hope of getting at the Horcrux.

"You have to try Draco," he said simply, willing Draco to turn round and meet his gaze. He too kept his voice low, although it held more warmth than Draco's had "I know you can do it."

Slowly Draco turned and silver grey eyes locked with his emerald green ones.

--------

As he looked into Harry's eyes, Draco felt his fears melt away. He saw a lot of things in Harry's eyes, more perhaps than Harry intended since Draco's gift at Legilimency meant he usually saw beyond someone's eyes, unless he deliberately tried not to.

There was a swirl of emotions in those eyes: a sort of peace that showed Harry had accepted his fate, a determination to complete his task no matter what the risk to himself, a hope that tonight he would be one step closer to defeating Voldemort, a belief that Draco would be able to translate the scroll, and most of all a look that told Draco that even if he got it wrong Harry would know he had tried his best. That was the look that right here and now meant everything to Draco.

He pulled his eyes away reluctantly, not wanting to let go of that look, and automatically rubbed his arm again. It was still painful, although it was now more of a dull throbbing than a burning sensation. Once again he lowered his eyes to the parchment to try and make sense of it.

--------

It was almost half an hour later before either of them spoke again. It was now the early hours of the morning, although dawn was still a long way off and the air felt damp and cool despite the fact that it was still summer. Harry had spent much of the time pacing around nervously, Draco however had not moved; his legs were beginning to feel stiff but he was determined to get every bit of the translation just right.

"I think I know what to do," he said at last. Harry visibly jumped as the silence of the moor was broken, but quickly recovered and hurried over to the pedestal.

"Which one is it?" he asked, unable to keep the note of impatience out of his voice.

"It's not as simple as that Potter, I explained that before," Draco snapped, he was starting to feel nervous again and it wasn't helping his temper. "Just do what I tell you." To his credit Harry ignored the outburst and simply nodded as he came to stand next to Draco ready to move the goblets as he directed.

"Take the goblet on the far right and pour the liquid into the empty one in the middle," instructed Draco, biting his lip as Harry picked up the goblet and began to pour the silvery liquid from one to the other. As it hit the second goblet the liquid turned a deep rich burgundy colour and Harry turned to Draco enquiringly.

There was just a hint of a relieved smile on Draco's face as he nodded; this was what he had expected to happen and it boosted his confidence again. For the next ten minutes or so he and Harry worked through all the instructions on the parchment, Draco carefully scrutinising each phrase before instructing Harry on which liquid to pour into where, creating a new and vivid colour each time.

When he reached the final instruction Draco paused. From the way it was written it was difficult to tell exactly what the instruction wanted him to do.

"I'm not sure about this one," he admitted. "In fact I'm not sure about this whole thing, it seems odd that Voldemort would leave a set of instructions on how to access his Horcrux."

"Maybe he was worried he might forget?" Harry suggested, although Draco could tell from his tone that Harry found it as unlikely as he did that Voldemort would forget how to retrieve his own Horcrux. "Actually I think he may have done it thinking that he may one day have to instruct one of his followers to retrieve the Horcrux for him." This explanation at least seemed more likely to Draco, although the irony of him helping to retrieve the Horcrux for Harry instead of Voldemort was not lost on him.

"Well what do I need to do?" Harry prompted eventually after Draco had spent a few minutes frowning at the goblets in silence.

"I think you pour this one," Draco pointed, "into here." Harry did as instructed, so they were left with two goblets filled with a bright yellow liquid, one with deep purple liquid and four empty ones.

"Are they the right colour?" Harry asked, frowning slightly, it seemed strange that they should have an odd one out, instead of three the same.

"I really don't know." Draco confessed, "It stopped mentioning what colour they should be after that first red one. It's that last instruction I'm not sure about though and that produced a second yellow liquid, not the purple, so I'm pretty sure it's right that we have one purple."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"So now we just take the Horcrux?" Draco nodded, his stomach twisting itself into squirming knots.

"It should be this one." He pointed at the goblet second on the left and was rather alarmed to notice his finger was trembling. "But….." He trailed off. What if he was wrong? He had no idea what would happen if the wrong goblet was selected. Would the person who touched it die? Would Voldemort be warned and immediately appear to kill the person attempting to take the Horcrux? Or would they just not know until much later after they examined the goblet and found it to be just that, an ordinary goblet? Either way someone was bound to blame him, to say he had done it on purpose and that he wasn't to be trusted. Even if Harry said he wouldn't, he still might inside; there would always be a nagging feeling that Draco might have been betraying him.

And what if Harry died? Draco felt his stomach lurch at the thought. If Harry died it would be he who had killed him and no one would believe he hadn't meant to. If Harry died, who would fight against Voldemort? And who would stop Voldemort killing _him_ for his betrayal? Even if they threw him in Azkaban, which they surely would, Voldemort would get to him eventually. If Harry died there would be no one left in the world who would trust him.

At that last thought Draco felt his stomach lurch again and he was sure he would be physically sick. Who would have thought that having someone trust him could ever mean so much?

"Wait Harry, let me take the goblet." The words were out of his mouth before he even thought about them and Harry looked at him in surprise "I don't know what will happen and if I've got something wrong..."

--------

Harry looked at Draco thoughtfully. For the second time Draco had called him by his first name and Harry knew what was worrying him. Draco was afraid that if he had chosen the wrong one Harry would blame him, thinking that it was some sort of plot against him. It was a possibility Harry conceded to himself, Draco was a gifted Occlumens and, as Harry had seen many a time when Draco had been injured, a rather melodramatic actor. If he could fool Snape he could certainly fool Harry. Somehow though this did not feel like one of those times. Something in those stormy grey eyes made Harry feel he could trust Draco; something in the way he spoke made Harry believe he was genuine.

"Listen to me Draco, I know you have tried your best with this." He began, running one hand through his messy hair. "If it's wrong I won't blame you."

"But if I am wrong you might die." Draco's eyes were wide and held an emotion Harry had never seen in his eyes before. It was not fear he realised, but more like horror, as if the thought of Harry's death was too horrible for him to think about.

"Believe it or not I don't want to die." Harry gave a sudden smile, as he once again remembered Dumbledore's words to him in the cave. "Even if it's the wrong goblet I don't think I will be killed. That's not the way Voldemort's mind works. If someone tried to steal his Horcrux he would want them alive because he would want to know why they had done it. It may knock me unconscious, it may cause me to be immobilised, it may summon Voldemort to this spot or it may harm me in some other way, but I don't think it will kill me."

"Let me take it." Draco persisted, looking as if he didn't quite believe Harry's words.

"No." Harry's voice sounded suddenly very final. "You're the one who can read the parchment. If it's wrong and something happens to me you must try again, then you can take the Horcrux and hopefully me to Hogwarts. If the worst should happen and Voldemort turns up, which I doubt very much, just get yourself out of here. I mean it."

Draco opened his mouth ready to make an objection but Harry cut him off.

"No objections. I'm going to pick the goblet up now." Resolutely he reached forward and picked the goblet up from where it stood on the stone ledge. For a moment nothing happened and Harry dared to hope that they had picked the right one.

Then suddenly it was as if a great fist had punched him in the chest. He felt himself fly into the air. Then everything went black.

------------------------------------------

Loads of people have been adding this to their story or author alerts, which is really great, it's nice to know people are enjoying it enough to want to read more. If you could leave a review as well it would be much appreciated. XD

- Sivany


	5. If I Had Learnt A Little Better

**Disclaimer:**I don't own anything, except this chocolate and I'm not sharing that :P

**Beta:** The very wonderful Candy Marie!

**Authors Notes:** So I forgot to post this on Sunday. Hopefully it's worth the wait though. I'm really pleased to see how many people are adding this to their story alert, it's great to know so many people are reading!

--------

**Chapter 5:** If I Had Learnt A Little Better

"Harry!" 

The word was torn from Draco's throat and whipped away by the sudden gust of wind that ripped across the circle. Harry's body flew into the air as if it were nothing more than a rag doll and he landed crumpled on the ground several metres away. 

Draco started to run over to him, but stumbled and fell as the most agonising pain he had ever felt sliced through his arm where the Dark Mark was burnt into his skin. It was like having the power of ten Cruciatus curses at once concentrated into his arm, or at least Draco could only imagine that was what the pain was similar to, as he curled up in the foetal position cradling his arm.

For a moment darkness threatened to engulf him, but after a minute the pain subsided a little and he was able to sit, eyes streaming as he gasped for air. Scrambling up he ran over to Harry and flung himself down beside him. There was a nasty gash on the side of Harry's head that was bleeding freely and he was unconscious, but he was still breathing. Somehow he did not seem to have broken any bones.

Trying to ignore the pain in his arm, Draco grabbed his wand and performed a healing spell on Harry's head wound. It wasn't as successful as it had been earlier; the gash was not as clean as the knife cut Harry had made in his own hand, which made it more difficult to repair.

That done Draco half thought about getting straight back on the broom and taking Harry to Hogwarts. That was where he had said to go if anything happened and Draco desperately wanted to get away from the pedestal with its Horcrux and Latin riddle that had almost killed Harry. But Harry had also said to try to get the Horcrux again if there was time and Draco knew already, although he didn't want to admit it to himself, that he was going to try again. There wasn't much time though, Draco was terrified that the burning in his arm might be a sign that Voldemort knew someone had attempted to steal his Horcrux and even now might be summoning his Death Eaters ready to come and finish off whoever was stealing it. Not having received the benefit of Dumbledore's wisdom, he was unaware how unlikely this scenario was.

Scrambling up once more, and pushing to the back of his mind the thoughts about what might happen if he got it wrong again, Draco hurried over to the pedestal and retrieved the parchment from where he had dropped it. The seven cups were sitting as if they had never been touched, three goblets full of silvery liquid lit only by the pale green light.

As quickly as he could Draco followed the steps through again. It was a little quicker this time but he was still hampered by the pain in his left arm and his substandard Latin. If only he had concentrated harder in his lessons; if only he had kept studying; if only he had learnt a little better, none of this would have happened. Harry wouldn't be lying unconscious and he wouldn't be stood here feeling more terrified than he ever had in his life. He could stop, he knew he could stop and take Harry and go to Hogwarts, but something willed him on. He felt he had let Harry down, Harry had trusted him and now Draco had to complete this task, or at least give it another shot.

When he came to the final instruction Draco hesitated. There were two possible ways of looking at this phrasing, the first time he had chosen the wrong way and this time he hoped he would be choosing the right way. He picked up one goblet and poured the liquid slowly into another. This time it turned a deep purple. Two purple, one yellow, he noted. At least something different had happened this time; he assumed, or rather hoped, that this was a good thing.

Taking a deep breath and glancing over his shoulder at Harry's unconscious form, Draco closed his eyes and picked up the goblet he hoped was the Horcrux. He stood still, waiting to be thrown backwards.

When nothing happened he opened his eyes and looked at the goblet. It looked the same as all the others but it somehow felt different. Not heavier. That would imply it weighed more when it didn't. Perhaps denser was more the word to describe it, although even that wasn't quite right either. Whatever it was, Draco was suddenly sure he had the right one and almost laughed out loud with relief, forgetting even the pain in his arm in his triumph. 

He couldn't forget it for long though, another wave of pain hit him, causing him to cry out. He threw the parchment back into the pedestal, not caring that it had knocked over the other goblets and ran towards Harry. The feeling of dread, which had been growing in his stomach, now sat there like a stone and his urge to get away from this place was almost overpowering. 

"Accio Firebolt!" he yelled, drawing his wand as he ran. At once the broom came rushing into his outstretched hand, just as he reached Harry. He flung himself on, grabbed the back of Harry's robes and pulled the broom sharply upwards moments before the moor burst into flames once more. 

The fires lasted only a second, for the broom was soon out of their range, but if Harry and Draco had been on the ground they would surely have been burnt alive by the inferno.

Breathing heavily, Draco hauled Harry up onto the broom, his task made more difficult by his painful arm and the goblet he clutched tightly in one hand. Eventually though Draco got Harry into a comfortable position in front of him and wrapped his arms around Harry's body to keep him upright. For a moment Draco rested, his face buried in Harry's neck, his body enjoying the contact with the other boy's muscular frame. 

He jerked upright suddenly as a realisation hit him. Hogwarts Harry had said, but Draco didn't know where he was and he certainly didn't know which way Hogwarts was. 

This was going to be a long flight.

--------

Nearly an hour later Draco and Harry were flying over Scotland on their way to Hogwarts. It had taken Draco quite a long time of flying, in what turned out to be the wrong direction, before he had found a landmark he recognised and he was able to get his bearings. By his estimates it would take nearly an hour more to get to Hogwarts. The problem was he wasn't sure he could last another hour. 

Pain and the events of the night were beginning to take their toll on Draco's body. He was beginning to feel sick and faint as he urged the broomstick along faster. His muscles ached from supporting Harry's weight for so long and he was starting to feel even more worried about him. He had been unconscious now for over an hour without showing any signs of life other than his steady breathing and rhythmic heartbeat. It was the heartbeat that kept Draco going. As long as he could feel its steady rhythm against his arm he somehow felt that everything would be all right. This thought confused him though: since when did he, Draco Malfoy, think thoughts like that? He was becoming delirious, he decided. He tried to think back over what had happened in the past few hours, but the pain in his arm made thinking almost impossible. Right now he just had to concentrate on getting Harry and the Horcrux back to Hogwarts.

One thing he had given some thought to (before the pain had become too much for him to really think rational thoughts) had been the reaction of Harry's friends at Hogwarts. Draco assumed there would be people there who knew what was going on, otherwise why would Harry have wanted to go there? The Weasleys were probably there Draco realised, and Granger, and some of the Professors. How would they react when they saw him? With Harry unconscious there would be no one to vouch for him, they would probably think it was his fault Harry was injured. That thought reminded him that of course, it was his fault. If only he had learnt Latin a little better. They would probably hex him before he could even open his mouth to explain. They would order him to be thrown into Azkaban. After all they all knew his part in how the Death Eaters had gained access to Hogwarts. Maybe he would be thrown in the dungeons whilst they waited for someone to come and take him away. He was sure all the old torture instruments were still kept down there by Filch. Perhaps he would be tortured until he told them what they wanted to hear and incriminated himself. They would blame him if Harry died and with good reason, after all it would be his fault. Perhaps they would just let him curl up in the corner and die of pain. He would surely die of this pain soon. He couldn't think straight anymore, perhaps he would just let the pain take him. 

He had felt Harry slipping from his grasp before he had noticed that he was falling himself. The adrenalin rush the shock had caused had probably saved their lives, and now Draco was determined to fix his mind on nothing but the flight and the thought of getting to Hogwarts as quickly as possible.

--------

It was a Draco half fainting with pain and exhaustion that eventually sighted Hogwart's through dull, glassy, grey eyes an hour later. As he got nearer he saw the familiar forest, the lake, the towers and finally the courtyard. This seemed to be lit with torches, as if there were people down there waiting for someone to return. Draco pointed the broomstick in that direction and began to descend rapidly. His fainting mind hardly heard the shouts as the watchers down below spotted the broomstick heading towards them and it wasn't until the last moment that he realised their descent was too rapid. He pulled the broomstick sharply out of the dive, turning just in time to avoid the courtyard walls. The broom whipped round the courtyard in a sort of half circle, as Draco tried to slow them down. Luckily they were going quite slowly by the time Draco's mind and body finally gave up the struggle and he collapsed off the broom, causing him and Harry to land rather heavily on the stone floor, the broom tangled between Harry's legs.

Just for a moment the jolt awoke Draco's mind and he saw Harry's eyes flicker open just a foot away from his face. He managed one word before his eyes finally closed completely.

"Hogwarts."

--------

Harry sat bolt upright suddenly, but winced and almost fell back again at the pain in his chest. Gingerly he rubbed his hand across his ribs; nothing seemed to be broken, they were just badly bruised.

It took a moment to get his bearings and realise that he was in the courtyard of Hogwarts, that Draco was beside him, and that the strange object caught in his legs was actually his broom. He extracted it quickly; eager to find out if Draco had managed to get the Horcrux. 

As he scrambled towards him Harry noticed Draco had landed oddly and took hold of his left arm to try and move it into a more comfortable position. Almost at once he dropped it again when he realised Draco's sleeve was damp and sticky. With a gasp of horror Harry saw his hand was covered in blood and pulled Draco's sleeve up to try and get a better look. As he did so he couldn't help the small cry of revulsion that escaped his mouth.

They had landed at the opposite end of the courtyard to most of the torches, but even in the shadowy light Harry could see Draco's arm was a mess. The ugly mark that stained his arm was burnt black and covered in a sticky mess of congealed and fresh blood. Harry had seen some terrible things, but nothing as terrible or horrifying as this.

He couldn't look at it, but at the same time found he couldn't stop looking. When he did eventually tear his eyes away, they landed on the cup clutched tightly in Draco's long pale fingers. Harry didn't know why but he felt tears stinging his eyes, he felt suddenly fiercely proud of Draco and what he had done. How long had his arm had been like that? It must surely be at least as painful as the Cruciatus curse, which was the worse pain Harry could imagine. Yet despite the pain Draco had still managed to retrieve the Horcrux and get them both safely back to Hogwarts.

"Harry, Harry is that you? Are you alright?"

"You've been ages mate, we were starting to worry."

"Is everything alright Harry?"

Harry quickly blinked away his tears as the beams of light from various wands fell onto him and Draco. Having got over their shock at the way the broom had careered round the courtyard and the fact that it contained twice as many people as they were expecting, Harry's friends had come running towards him. 

They stopped short though when they saw the figure lying next to Harry. Ron was the first to recover.

"Bloody hell, what's he doing here?"

"It's a long story," said Harry, rising unsteadily to his feet and rubbing his ribs again. "Just don't hex him." 

"He's unconscious anyway," he added as an after-thought.

"Are you alright Harry? Did you get the Horcrux?" The concern that Harry could see in Hermione's face was reflected in her voice.

"I'm fine, just a little sore." Harry replied, and by way of answering the first question bent down to ease the goblet from Draco's grasp. As he held it up to the others, he couldn't help the triumphant grin that crept across his face.

That grin was all it took to change the whole atmosphere of the courtyard. Suddenly it didn't seem to matter that Draco was lying just a few feet away. It didn't seem to matter that Harry had not yet explained what Draco was doing there. He had the Horcrux, and more importantly he had returned safely.

Harry found himself being crushed in a hug from his two best friends. Hermione was crying into his shoulder and Ron was thumping his back, a grin equal to Harry's on his face.

"I knew you'd do it mate," he said enthusiastically

"Oh Harry we were so worried when you didn't come back earlier." Hermione sobbed quietly "What happened?"

"I'll tell you in a minute" Harry said, patting her on the back in an awkward attempt to soothe her. "First though you're going to have to let go, something hit me in the chest and I'm going to have some great bruises tomorrow."

Hermione let go managing a small smile at his joke, but she still looked concerned.

"What about _him_?" Ron nodded towards Draco and Harry winced as he looked over and caught sight of his arm, the blood trickling in streams that shone red in the wand light. No one else seemed to have noticed it yet.

"I think perhaps you better explain what's going on," came a third, curt voice: Professor McGonagall had been standing back quietly with several other Order members as Harry's friends greeted him.

"Yes, yes of course." Harry gasped, feeling both nervous and nauseous at the same time. "But his arm, look at his arm. It's horrible, can't you do something?"

Professor McGonagall stepped forward and knelt by Draco, shining her wand directly on his arm. In the clearer light it looked even more awful than before and her hand flew to her mouth as she turned away looking horrified. Curious, Ron and Hermione peered round her and immediately recoiled in shock. Despite their hatred of Malfoy, Hermione looked like she was about to be sick and even Ron was grimacing.

"What happened to him?" Hermione asked.

"I really don't know." Harry shuddered just thinking about what might have caused it.

"How long has it been like this?" Professor McGonagall asked while she conjured up a stretcher and levitated Draco onto it.

"I don't know that either," he confessed, and feeling that some sort of explanation was necessary continued, "I've been unconscious for at least two hours. Maybe it happened when he picked up the Horcrux."

Only when Hermione and Ron looked at him strangely did he realise that he had only created more questions than he had answered with that statement and he sighed.

"Things didn't exactly go as planned tonight. I'll explain it all, from the beginning, but first I think I need a visit to the hospital wing to get something for these bruises."

"And your head," added Hermione, wondering how she hadn't noticed the gash on Harry's head earlier. It looked nasty, although it wasn't bleeding as much as she would have expected. In fact it looked as if someone had already made an inexpert attempt to heal it.

Harry raised his hand in alarm, and winced as he felt the cut there.

"Did you heal it?" Hermione asked, looking confused at Harry's surprise.

"I don't even remember cutting it, it must have happened when I got thrown backwards." He looked at the blood on his hand and nodded towards Draco who was now being borne to the hospital wing on a stretcher ahead of them. "I think he must have healed it."

"Malfoy healed you?" Ron asked incredulously "This is Malfoy we're talking about remember: the Death Eater son of a Death Eater. Are you sure you're thinking straight? That looks like a nasty cut; perhaps it's affected your mind?"

"Maybe." Harry grinned again. Now he and the Horcrux were back safely with his friends at Hogwarts all the worries of the night were fading and the triumphs seemed brighter. His only concern was Draco's arm, but even that could be put aside now, as he was confident Madam Pomfrey would be able to fix it. All in all Harry was feeling positively giddy with happiness as he smiled at his friends' confusion. "I'm serious though about the healing, weird things have been happening tonight. Just wait till I tell you all about it."

-------

Explanations had to wait though as in the hospital wing Madam Pomfrey insisted on questioning Harry in detail about what had happened to Draco's arm as she rubbed several potions and ointments on it, persisting even after he had assured her several times that he had no idea what had happened.

"Look all I know is that he rubbed his arm a couple of times earlier, I just thought it was the Dark Mark burning because Voldemort was calling the Death Eaters to his side." Everyone in the room winced visibly as Harry spoke Voldemort's name, but no one said anything, they were used to Harry saying it every time he spoke of him.

Madam Pomfrey sighed, giving Harry a rather disappointed look as if she took it as a personal insult that he couldn't tell her more.

"I'm going to have to wake him up," she said after she had finished cleaning up the arm. Now that the blood was gone the outline of the Dark Mark was more clearly visible, although the skin still looked burnt and broken. "Nothing I try seems to be making it any better."

Harry felt his rush of euphoria fading as Madam Pomfrey spoke. He was so used to her being able to fix any injury he and his friends sustained that he had expected this to be no different. Now he was beginning to feel worried again. Even Hermione was looking concerned; she might have hated Draco but no one could look at his damaged arm without feeling some form of compassion.

It took several attempts to bring Draco round and when he finally did regain consciousness it was with a cry of pain that made everyone in the room grimace in sympathy. Before he could speak Madam Pomfrey pressed a pain relief potion to his lips, forcing him to drink the entire contents of the goblet. When that was done and Draco had finished choking at the taste, he looked around in confusion before his eyes finally alighted on Harry and he frowned as if trying to remember something.

"You're in the hospital wing at Hogwarts." Harry informed him "Madam Pomfrey's trying to sort out your arm."

"Right…" said Draco faintly, dragging his eyes across to look at his arm and wincing as he caught sight of it. "It doesn't hurt as much anymore, that potion worked fast."

"Mr Malfoy." Madam Pomfrey called Draco's attention to her. "Naturally I have never come across anything like this before and I'm at a loss as to what to do. Nothing I try seems to be healing the skin, we hoped you might be able to tell us something."

"You can't heal it." Draco stated simply, much to everyone's surprise. Gingerly he pushed himself up the bed so he was in more of a sitting position and rubbed his hand across his face, a look of resignation in his eyes as he gazed at his arm. "This mark was burnt into my skin using dark magic sealed with vows and oaths. I've gone against them. I've broken them all. There isn't anything you can do."

Several of the Order members standing in the room started murmuring amongst themselves at this speech, obviously wondering how much of it was true and what it meant Draco was implying. Madam Pomfrey looked as if she was about to protest, not wanting to accept that there was 'nothing she could do'. Draco however cut her off.

"Just put a bandage on it or something. Please." The surprise at Draco having actually asked politely made Madam Pomfrey stop in her tracks. After a moments pause she nodded and began bandaging his arm, fussing as she did so.

"Once this is done you're to take this potion for dreamless sleep straight away." She ordered "I don't know what's happened but it looks like you've had a rough night, you need a nice long sleep to recover." Having finished the bandaging she pressed another potion into Draco's good hand and he drank it willingly. Moments later he was fast asleep, a peaceful look on his face as if sleep had finally set him free from the problems of his waking life.

"Now, Harry… you look exhausted." Madam Pomfrey was already working on his head wound. "This looks like it's been rather inexpertly healed, but it's lucky it has, you could have lost a lot of blood, it's a very deep gash."

"Malfoy healed it." Harry told her, closing his eyes and wincing in pain as Madam Pomfrey dabbed some ointment on his head. It stung for a while then stopped and Harry knew the wound had healed. He didn't open his eyes though, he suddenly felt very tired. When Madam Pomfrey insisted he change out of his robes he didn't even bother to argue and even took the potions she pressed on him without fuss. 

"I think you'd better take some of this sleeping potion too dear." Madam Pomfrey said kindly, putting a goblet of the potion by Harry's bed. Harry, who was feeling much more comfortable since Madam Pomfrey had rubbed some ointment on his chest to lessen the bruising was more than willing to comply, Professor McGonagall however looked as though she was about to object. "Any questions will have to wait until morning." Madam Pomfrey interjected firmly before anyone could say anything further. "Neither Harry nor Mr Malfoy will be leaving the hospital wing for the next few hours, and I'm sure things can be explained when they wake up."

Harry gave Ron and Hermione an apologetic smile. He desperately wanted to explain to them what had happened and how Malfoy had helped him, but he also desperately wanted to close his eyes and forget all that had happened for a few hours.

"It's ok, Harry," said Hermione gently "You've had a long night and you need sleep, we'll just have to wait to satisfy our curiosity."

Ron nodded in agreement and Harry smiled at them both thankfully, realising once again how lucky he was to have such loyal and understanding friends.

"Thanks," he grinned, before Hermione smothered him with another hug. "Take the Horcrux and put it somewhere safe, I promise I'll explain everything when I wake up."

Hermione nodded, releasing him from the hug and picking up the goblet that Harry had placed on the bedside table. Then Harry drank his potion and settled down to sleep. The last thing he saw before his eyes drifted closed was Hermione reaching out to take Ron's hand.

----------------------------------------------

I just had to get a bit of Hermione/Ron in there, I think they'requite sweet. Won't be much about their relationship though, it'll just be in the background. Anyway, as always thanks for reading and reviews are much loved so please leave one!

Sivany


	6. Some Things Are Just Coincidence

**Disclaimer:** I ate the chocolate so now I own nothing, only the plotline is mine!

**Beta:** Candy Marie! Who is in Disney World at the moment, lucky lady!

**Authors Notes:** The number of people who have this on their story alerts is incredible; I never thought it would get so popular. It's great to know so many of you are reading!

Also I've only just realised the lines I had put in to indicate a change in POV disappear when I upload the document so if all the chapters have looked a bit run-together so far that's why, they weren't like that originally! I've had to use the edit feature to add these full page lines in like the one below, it's not ideal (I just wanted a few dashes) but it seems to be the only thing that will work.

* * *

**Chapter 6:** Some Things Are Just Coincidence

Harry awoke the next day to find the sun streaming in through the window. For a moment he wondered where he was, then the events of the night before came flooding back and he quickly turned his head to see Draco still sleeping peacefully in the bed next to him. Very quietly, so as not to wake him or alert Madam Pomfrey to his movements, Harry got up and began pulling on his robes. They were the same ones he had been wearing the night before and they felt dirty and sweaty from the flames, but for the moment they were all Harry had in reach and he was eager to go and find his friends and give the promised explanation.

Ten minutes later Harry entered the Gryffindor common room to find Hermione and Ron sitting together on the sofa. It was the summer holidays, so naturally they were the only ones there, and they both turned at the sound of the portrait opening.

"Harry how are you feeling?" Hermione asked, still concerned even as he flopped down in the chair opposite them, a wide grin on his face.

"I'm fine." He waved a hand dismissively at her. "Really," he added, seeing the doubtful look on her face. Hermione looked as if she were about to say more, so he cut her off. "Do you want to hear what happened last night or not?" Hermione frowned, torn between curiosity and concern; when Ron nudged her though she finally nodded her head.

"The first thing you should know is, things didn't exactly go to plan." Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes as he lent forward to start his explanation. Hermione looked as if she was about to ask questions, but a sharp nudge from Ron silenced her and Harry was grateful to his best friend. He needed to tell this story in his own time.

"I said I was going to go back to the hut where Voldemort's mother lived before he was born to see if there was anything that had been overlooked before I headed to the moor." Harry started and Hermione nodded, remembering it had been her idea to check out this place again for any clues as to the other Horcruxes as it was one of Voldemort's only links to his mother's past. "Well, I was just looking around and I hadn't found anything of interest when I heard a noise coming from outside. I left my broom and looked out the door. I suppose, looking back, it was a bit foolish of me really; they captured me almost immediately."

Hermione and Ron gasped loudly. There was no need for Harry to say who 'they' were, they both knew he meant the Death Eaters.

"How did they know?" Hermione wailed, even though Harry was clearly safe and sitting in front of her, she was still wide eyed with horror at the thought of having sent Harry into the hands of the Death Eaters. Harry shrugged in reply; this was something he had been wondering himself.

"My only guess is that they were Apparating into the woods for some sort of meeting with Voldemort, and saw the light from my wand. I really don't know, maybe Draco would know." He shook his head, realising he was getting ahead of himself by mentioning Draco already. "Anyway they petrified me and carried me to the Riddle House which is nearby, but instead of going inside they veered off and took me down into what looked like a sort of underground cellar. They dragged me through the stone passages, past all these doors whilst I desperately tried to remember which way I was going in case there was any chance of escape later on. Eventually we arrived in a room, they un-petrified me and threw me back against the door. That's when Snape pulled off his mask and challenged me to a duel."

"He didn't just kill you?" Ron interrupted looking rather incredulous.

"No," Harry shook his head, smiling a little as his friend stated the obvious. "He said Voldemort had ordered that I be left for him to deal with." Ron nodded silently. "Snape knew that it would be a one-sided duel. He knows I can't use Occlumency, he was able to see my every move almost before I'd even thought about them."

"But what happened? How did you escape?" Hermione was now on the edge of her seat, her hands clasped together so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Hermione it's ok, I'm here aren't I?" Harry laughed suddenly and Hermione sat back a little smiling apologetically.

"I don't know how you can treat it all so lightly," she grumbled.

"It's because I'm here Hermione. I escaped, it's over for now," Harry reasoned. "Anyway as I was saying I had no chance against him, he hit me with a few curses and blocked all mine. Then something really weird happened." He paused for a moment, frowning as he tried to remember exactly what had gone on. "You remember those spells in the Half-Blood Prince's book? The spells Snape invented?" The others nodded and Harry continued: "Well Snape told me not to try using them against him again like I did last time we met." Harry gulped as the memories he would rather forget came swimming across his mind. "He reminded me about what happened with Draco in the bathroom that time when I used one of the spells. I shouted something about not meaning to do it and then the next thing I knew everything had changed."

"Changed? How?" Ron and Hermione were now looking extremely confused and Harry struggled to find the words to explain how he had felt.

"Snape couldn't read my thoughts anymore. In fact I couldn't even read my thoughts anymore. It was weird, as if I wasn't controlling what I did, but not like the Imperius Curse. I used this spell that I've never heard of, Ridimace or something it was. Anyway Snape couldn't block it, it hit him in the chest, I don't know what it did, I didn't stick around to find out, I ran for my life." The words tumbled out of Harry's mouth as if he couldn't say them fast enough and Hermione was looking at him a mixture of horror and wonder on her face.

"Was it like someone was thinking your thoughts for you?" she asked. Harry nodded and she looked even more excited. "That's very advanced magic, it takes great skill both at Legilimency and Occlumency. I've read about it somewhere," At this Ron rolled his eyes at Harry making him laugh; you could always rely on Hermione to have read about things somewhere. "It's when another witch or wizard not only looks at the thoughts of others but also prevents anyone else doing so. Sometimes they can even twist them and make the person do think or do things they wouldn't usually."

"So they can control someone else just using their mind?" Harry was rather alarmed at this suggestion, thinking what a dangerous power it could be in the wrong hands. To his relief Hermione shook her head.

"No, it's not like mind control, it's more a sort of suggestion of what you might do next. In this case it seems that whoever it was also used their powers of Occlumency to block what was happening from Snape. The main thing that differentiates this from mind control is that the witch or wizard has to allow someone to do this to them. Although you are not skilled at Occlumency even you could have prevented someone from taking over your thoughts in this way if you had wanted to." Hermione explained "But of course it was working to your advantage so I bet you never even thought to try." Harry shook his head and Hermione looked thoughtful again "It would take great power to do this though, and the person would have needed to be in the room with you. You said they were all Death Eaters there though, who could it have been?"

Harry felt a little uncomfortable at this question; this was the point where he would have to explain about Draco. It was obviously him who had helped him during the duel and Harry was rather surprised that neither Ron nor Hermione had worked it out yet. Almost on cue Harry saw both their eyes grow wide.

"Not Malfoy!" Ron yelled, half leaping out of his seat and looking wildly at both Hermione and Harry as if he hoped one of them would deny it. Harry though nodded his head and rubbed his hand across his eyes again, hoping Ron wasn't going to lose his temper.

"Of course," whispered Hermione softly. "That's why he's here isn't it? He helped you." Again Harry nodded dumbly, and was rather surprised when instead of shouting Ron sank back down onto the sofa looking confused.

"This is just too weird," he mumbled. "Malfoy actually helped you escape the Death Eaters."

"So did Malfoy come with you when you left?" Hermione asked, reminding Harry that he still had a lot more story to tell. He shook his head and began telling them all that had happened after he had escaped from the Death Eaters' clutches. He told them how he had found the location of the Horcrux, how Draco had suddenly appeared from nowhere, how he had decided to give him a chance to prove himself and how they had tackled the challenges of getting to the Horcrux together. When Harry got to the part where Draco had mistranslated the scroll, causing him to pick the wrong goblet Ron saw red.

"He was trying to kill you! He tricked you, that slimy little ferret." Ron, who had leapt up, seemed almost on the point of rushing to the hospital wing to let Draco know exactly what he thought of this, when Hermione grabbed his arm and with surprising strength pulled him back down.

"Wait Ron! What happened next Harry?" Ron reluctantly stayed put, muttering something about 'making that bastard pay'.

"I don't know what happened after that," Harry confessed "When I picked up the wrong goblet it felt like something hit me in the chest, I was knocked unconscious." Hermione gazed at him uncertainly

"But how did you get back here? You had the Horcrux with you."

"I didn't have the Horcrux, Malfoy did," Harry explained. "He must have retrieved the Horcrux and flown back here with me. That's what I told him to do before I picked up the goblet in case it was wrong. He had already warned me he wasn't sure if he had translated the scroll correctly, but I had to risk it anyway." Harry looked at his two friends to gauge their reactions. Ron was now looking less angry and more amazed, but Hermione still looked suspicious.

"Don't you think it seems a little odd that Malfoy was able to help you get the Horcrux so easily?" she asked. "It strikes me as slightly suspicious." Harry sighed, frowning deeply. He had known before he started that this would be the most difficult part.

"I have this theory about Voldemort's Horcruxes." He said slowly "Back when Voldemort first started splitting his soul he was doing it to ensure he could never be killed. As such I think he may have intended his Horcruxes to be accessible to his followers should anything happen to him that meant they needed to retrieve a piece of his soul. As he got more powerful however he began to think himself untouchable and also trusted his followers less and less. I suspect that perhaps only one or two ever knew about the locations of his last few Horcruxes, if any of them ever did. I think this cup might have been one of his early Horcruxes, so the protection around it was such that a Death Eater might find it fairly easy to overcome, whilst still keeping it hidden from outsiders."

Hermione nodded at the explanation; it did seem reasonable that whilst Voldemort was still unsure of his immortality he might do as Harry suggested. However her suspicions were not completely satisfied.

"That may be true," she admitted, "but doesn't it seem strange that Malfoy turns up when you are trying to get to a Horcrux that a Death Eater could easily access? What if Voldemort sent Malfoy as a spy, what if he was supposed to help you get to the Horcrux to lull you into a false sense of security? Perhaps he's hoping we will trust Malfoy and tell him what is going on so he can report back to Voldemort?" Ron nodded along as she spoke, agreeing with what she said. Harry shook his head in frustration.

"It's not like that. Don't you see that wouldn't make sense? Why have Malfoy help me escape when they already had me captured? Why not come and recapture me when I was knocked unconscious? Why let us get hold of the real Horcrux?" Harry rubbed his hand through his hair, unsure how to explain it further. "I believe he's genuine. I was there on the Tower that night, remember? I think we have to give Malfoy a chance."

Ron was now sitting back on the sofa, a sort of half confused, half defeated look on his face, as if he could think of nothing to say in the face of Harry's logic and was now struggling to come to terms with what this meant. Hermione however was still looking as if she was determined not to agree, but luckily Harry had known her long enough to realise that she wasn't disagreeing out of stubbornness or a wanting to prove him wrong. She was genuinely concerned that this was all some elaborate hoax designed to trick them.

"Well I still think it all seems suspicious," she said, folding her arms and glaring at Harry. "Don't you think it's all a bit too much of a coincidence to be true?"

"Hermione," Harry said gently, "Some things are just coincidence."

* * *

In the hospital wing Draco awoke and, like Harry, took a moment to work out where he was. It then took another moment for him to remember how he had got here before it all came flooding back. He had betrayed Voldemort, he had betrayed his parents, he had betrayed most of his friends; and he had helped Harry Potter steal a piece of Voldemort's soul. With a groan he realised that he was probably in more danger now than he ever had been in his life and with another groan he realised that his arm still ached, he was incredibly hungry and that most likely no one here would trust him one bit.

Not that he blamed them, he thought as he rolled out of bed and looked around for some clothes. He wouldn't trust him either if he were in their place. He found his shoes and jeans stacked neatly by the side of his bed. It went against all his instincts of good hygiene and grooming to put them back on again, but they seemed to be all that was available and he wasn't about to go anywhere in a hospital gown. The t-shirt he had been wearing last night was nowhere to be found and Draco figured they must have got rid of it; after all it was probably covered in blood. Groaning a third time he realised that he was stuck in the hospital wing only half dressed with no prospect of getting any fresh clothes: they were all back at the manor.

The thought of home reminded him of his parents, particularly his mother. She had loved him, he was sure of that. He'd never been so sure about his father, but his mother had often tried to protect him from things, she had cared for him and comforted him. He stopped this train of thought immediately; he didn't want to think about them right now, he knew that even his mother would probably disown him once she found out about his betrayal, and that thought made his stomach twist. He hadn't expected it to affect him this much.

He had just started wondering what Madam Pomfrey might have done with his wand when the door opened and Harry and his friends stepped into the room.

* * *

"I'm going upstairs to change." Harry had announced after spending a few more minutes attempting to convince Hermione. She was actually beginning to look more reassured now but had insisted she wanted to talk to Malfoy about it herself. Harry wasn't sure this was such a good idea, after all Malfoy was still Malfoy, he hadn't had a sudden personality transplant. Harry was sure he would say something awful that would turn Hermione against him no matter what Harry could try to say to convince her. Ron was looking a little unsure about the whole thing as well and had even joined Harry in trying to persuade her it wasn't a good idea. Hermione however was not to be swayed so Harry decided to escape for a while and hope Ron had more luck at persuading her not to go.

Unfortunately, when he emerged from the dormitories having showered and changed into a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt, Hermione was still adamant about speaking with Draco. Harry had no choice then but to take her to the hospital wing and hope Draco was still asleep. Once again though luck was against him, when they stepped into the hospital wing they were greeted by the sight of a half naked Draco peering into the cupboard by the side of his bed.

As they entered he straightened up and looked at them frowning. Harry couldn't help notice that, despite being a little too thin for his height, his pale skin looked smooth and inviting. Harry had a sudden urge to run his hand across Draco's stomach.

_What!_ Had he really just though that? Harry blinked and cleared his throat to hide his confusion. Draco was still staring at them silently and, as neither Hermione nor Ron spoke, Harry realised he was going to have to start the conversation.

"What are you doing?" he asked scowling, still a little embarrassed from his earlier thoughts.

"Looking for my wand," Draco replied, smirking in a way that made Harry wonder if he could read his thoughts. Just as he was telling himself off for being silly it suddenly hit him that Draco could actually read his thoughts very easily. He was fairly sure Draco wasn't trying to do so now, since he could usually feel when someone was doing that, but the realisation still sent a sudden rush of heat to his cheeks. Glad that Hermione and Ron were both looking at Draco rather than at him Harry tried again.

"Madam Pomfrey probably has it, she will have taken it away." The smirk immediately vanished from Draco's face, replaced by the cold, emotionless expression Harry had seen there so often.

"Fine," he said. "When is she planning on returning it?" Harry knew Draco was not happy at being reminded that he was considered by most people to be untrustworthy and made an effort to change the topic.

"Why are you dressed like that?" Draco glanced down before sneering at Harry.

"I don't exactly have much to wear, in case you'd forgotten, Potter."

Hermione visibly recoiled at Draco's outburst; Ron automatically reached for his wand, reddening in anger.

"Shut up Malfoy" he spat "You're in no position to talk like that. You've no wand, you're defenceless."

"You shut it Weasel, no one asked you." Draco snapped, his face twisting in anger.

"Don't talk to him like that!" Hermione had stepped forward her fists clenched angrily by her sides. Draco smirked at her.

"Aww does Weasel need a girl to stand up for him now?" he mocked and Harry groaned. He'd known coming to see Draco was a bad idea, he just hadn't known how quickly things would descend into an argument. He put his hand on his wand, just in case things turned nasty.

"You're pathetic!" Hermione spat, "You think you're so wonderful, but all you are is an arrogant prick."

"How dare you talk to me like that." Draco hissed back, "At least I don't go round acting like a pathetic know-it-all. You don't know everything, you're just a stupid filthy little…. bitch!"

Harry had heard enough.

"Stop! Stop right now!" He stepped between the two warring parties like a referee "Hermione, Ron go find Professor McGonagall and tell her Draco is awake. I'll find him something to wear." Both Hermione and Ron opened their mouths to object but Harry opened the door and shoved them both through it. "We all need to calm down." He said more quietly as he stood in the corridor.

"He might be on our side but he's still a complete bastard." Ron hissed, his face still red with anger. Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"You trust him?" she asked, her mouth hanging open as she starred at him disbelievingly.

"If Harry trusts him then I do too," stated Ron firmly. "I refuse to like him though, so keep him away from me." Harry grinned, his heart suddenly feeling a million times lighter; he should have known he could rely on Ron to stick by him.

"Thanks mate," he grinned again before looking over to see Hermione's reaction. She was still standing there open mouthed. Then she frowned and appeared to reach some sort of decision.

"Well I'm still not sure about him, but if you two want to go along with this, fine. I can't stop you. Professor McGonagall and the others might have a few things to say though." With that she stormed off down the corridor, presumably to find the Professor. Ron and Harry shared a glance, they had been best friends long enough to know what that glance meant. Ron hurried after Hermione to try and calm her down and Harry turned to enter the hospital wing again.

* * *

Almost as soon as Harry and the others had left, Draco felt a slight pang of regret for his words, not because he might have upset Granger and Weasley, he didn't really care how they felt, but they were Harry's best friends and he felt like he had let Harry down a little. Of course he had just managed to stop himself calling Granger a Mudblood. He was rather glad about that as he knew it would not have gone down well at all with any of them. It seemed like no one had noticed his self-restraint though. That was always the way of things: do something good and no one gave a damn, but get something wrong and suddenly everyone knew about it.

The door reopened and Harry stepped back into the room, this time alone. Draco just looked at him in silence, he did regret his outburst, but could think of nothing to say to explain how he felt. Once again he was let down by the fact that a Malfoy was not taught to apologise, they never stooped low enough to say sorry.

To his surprise though Harry actually smiled gently at him. Draco was a little alarmed by this and wondered if it was a smile like the one Voldemort had on his face just before he punished someone who had made a mistake. For a moment Draco was worried, he even took a small step back, but then he realised this was a genuine smile and grew confused instead of alarmed. After what had just happened why was Harry smiling at him?

"You didn't say Mudblood." Harry's voice was low, almost too quiet for Draco to hear. He caught the words and their meaning though and suddenly gave Harry a brilliant smile. He had noticed! Not only had he noticed but also it seemed it was all he cared about. He wasn't getting mad that Draco had insulted his friends. He wasn't shouting at him for starting the argument in the first place. He wasn't telling Draco off for the names he had used. All he was doing was acknowledging that Draco had enough self-restraint not to say Mudblood.

If it wasn't for the fact that he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys didn't approve of such things, he could have hugged him right then and there. That statement meant more to Draco than he could express in words. He didn't hug Harry though, instead he simply nodded and his smile was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

Harry however continued to smile and made his way over to Madam Pomfrey's office. Draco wondered what he was doing and also for the first time where Madam Pomfrey actually was.

"Here." Whilst Draco was thinking Harry had ducked inside the office and emerged with Draco's wand, which he now shoved into his hands. "Come with me." Draco took the wand gratefully, he had felt rather lost without it, but was alarmed by the fact that Harry was now heading towards the door expecting him to follow.

"Erm I'm only half dressed," Draco reminded him.

"I know," Harry laughed, opening the door "We're going to find you some clothes. Mine will probably be a bit big for you but I'm afraid they'll have to do."

Draco was rather nervous as he hurried through the corridors of the castle after Harry with no top on. He wasn't really self-conscious about his body, unless you counted the horrible mark on his arm that was wrapped in clean white bandages, but he didn't fancy running into one of his Professors whilst he was half naked.

"Wait here," Harry instructed Draco, and he stopped obediently in front of a portrait of a rather large lady. Harry approached it, whispered something Draco couldn't hear and it swung back revealing the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Draco peered inside curiously thinking that it looked very cosy, but he didn't enter even though Harry left the door open. That would feel a bit too weird he decided.

"These are too small for me now so they might fit you." Harry was back and now carrying a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. "You're about the same height as me, but you're too skinny." Draco was rather insulted at this assessment of his body, how dare Harry call him skinny!

"I'm not skinny," he muttered under his breath as Harry headed off again down the corridor.

"This way," Harry called. Draco was sure Harry was enjoying himself a little too much as he led him half dressed round the castle, he was probably hoping they would get caught and Draco would be embarrassed. Luckily for Draco though they arrived at another door without incident, and he blinked as he realised they were at the prefects' bathroom.

"The password is 'mermish' now," Harry told him, standing aside to let him enter. "Hurry up and have a shower, I'll wait here."

* * *

Draco wasted no time in stripping and stepping under the hot shower. He felt the tension drain from his muscles as the warm water massaged his naked body. For a few minutes he cleared his mind of all thoughts of what had happened and just enjoyed the sensation of the clean water washing away the dirty, sticky feeling he so hated. His peace was shattered all too soon by Harry banging on the door and yelling for him to hurry up, although in reality Draco realised he had been in the shower for nearly fifteen minutes. Quickly turning off the water he stepped out and began to dry and dress himself. Harry had given him some underwear as well and weird as it felt, Draco had no choice but to put it on.

"Who would have thought one day I'd be wearing the underwear of The-Boy-Who-Lived," he muttered to himself as he pulled on his trainers. He gave his hair a quick rub with the towel and then opened the door in response to more impatient hammering from Harry.

"Alright, don't get so worked up," Draco grumbled as he yanked open the door, causing Harry to overbalance and stumble backwards.

As the door to the bathroom opened and Draco stepped out Harry stumbled backwards, partly from losing his balance and partly from the shock of the first thought that ran through his head. Draco actually looked rather cute. The heat from the shower had brought a pink tinge to his cheeks and his damp blonde hair stuck up in every direction. The clothes Harry had given him, whilst not fitting perfectly were better than Harry had expected and showed off Draco's slender frame rather well. Most of all though Harry noticed the sparkle in Draco's eyes, he actually looked happy and relaxed for once.

Using the fact that the door had been suddenly yanked open as an excuse Harry took a moment to regain his balance and his composure. He really was loosing it he decided, what on earth was he doing thinking about Draco like that?

"Feel better?" he asked, when he finally trusted his voice not to betray his thoughts. He was rewarded with a nod and a genuine, if brief, smile from Draco

"Your taste in clothes isn't as bad as I expected," Draco mused. "Although of course it's all down to who's wearing them really." Harry laughed and as Draco grinned again Harry was struck by the oddness of the situation. Who would have ever thought he would be talking to Malfoy like this? They were even getting along and sharing a joke. If someone had said to Harry a few weeks ago that this would happen Harry would have told them they needed to see Madam Pomfrey to get their head injury treated.

Occupied with this thought Harry led Draco in silence to the staff room, where he knew Hermione and Ron would have found Professor McGonagall. Sure enough, when he knocked and entered, he saw not only them but also the familiar faces of Tonks, Remus, Mad-Eye Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mr and Mrs Weasley.

When Draco stepped through the door after him the whole atmosphere in the room changed, Harry saw Mad-Eye Moody, Remus and Mr Weasley all reach for their wands, whilst the others sat stony faced and unmoving in the presence of their former enemy. Before anyone could speak Harry launched into the tale of what had happened last night, adding in what Hermione had told him earlier about Legilimency and Occlumency, but leaving out the part where he had shouted at Snape about not meaning to hurt Draco. For some reason he did not want to share that with anyone except his two best friends. When he had finished, some in the room, particularly Mrs Weasley and Tonks, were looking at Draco with considerably more interest and compassion than they had previously. Moody, however, seemed unconvinced.

"You're too good at Occlumency for my liking," he glowered at Draco "Your mind is so tightly closed it's impossible to tell how you're really feeling. Besides no one has yet explained why you chose to change sides."

"Does there have to be a reason?" Draco retorted coldly, Harry had noticed that the moment Moody had implied that he had attempted to use Legilimency on Draco his face had completely lost all expression. He now merely stood staring impassively at Moody as if nothing he said would ever have any effect on him.

"Of course there has to be a reason," Moody growled back, "People don't just suddenly change sides because they feel like it, and even if you did how do we know you won't suddenly feel like changing back?" Draco remained silent, as if nothing in this speech moved him, and for a moment no one spoke.

"Perhaps Mr Malfoy would agree to questioning with Veritaserum?" Remus suggested quietly.

"Fine." Draco's eyes flicked to Remus, but other than that he showed no sign of emotion. "If Harry asks the questions," he added suddenly turning to look at Harry. For a moment their eyes met and Harry thought he saw just the briefest flicker of something in Draco's eyes, something that looked like fear. Harry knew what the problem was: Draco had his reasons for changing sides, but they were reasons he was not yet ready to share with others. Harry respected that, he felt he could trust him in spite of his silence, but the others of course were bound to be less easily convinced. As Moody rose to fetch the Veritaserum Harry turned to his best friends, who were both looking a little taken aback.

"He called you Harry," Ron mouthed at him across the room. Harry started suddenly; he hadn't noticed this before but now he realised Ron was right, Draco had just called him Harry. He could think of nothing to say to Ron about this so contented himself with mouthing, "I know" and shrugging his shoulders before turning back to where Professor McGonagall was now sitting Draco in a chair getting him ready to receive the truth potion.

Moody returned and placed the antidote on the table whilst handing a vial of clear liquid to Draco for him to drink, Harry knew this was the Veritaserum and quickly began formulating questions in his mind. He knew Draco had chosen him to ask the questions because he realised Harry understood his need to keep his reasons private and was hoping he would not force him to reveal them under the influence of truth potion. Harry just hoped he could repay Draco's trust in him whilst convincing everyone else to believe Draco was on their side.

Draco drained the vial and immediately his eyes took on a glassy unfocussed look that Harry knew meant the Veritaserum had taken affect.

"Name?" Harry asked

"Draco Lucius Malfoy," came the reply in that expressionless tone of voice that Harry hated. He searched for another question that would confirm the Veritaserum was working.

"Who are your parents?"

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and Narcissa Cassiopeia Malfoy, formally Narcissa Cassiopeia Black." Harry flinched and heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. He turned slightly and out of the corner of his eye saw Tonks, face twisted into a grimace at the reminder of her family connection to the man sitting in front of her.

Draco however continued to stare straight ahead, face completely impassive, unaware of the stir he had caused with his pronouncement. Harry decided to skip any further questions that might bring up awkward family related answers and began questioning Draco about the events of last night. He asked him what he had done to help Harry, asked him if he could be trusted, asked him if he really had deserted Voldemort to help them, but was careful to avoid asking why he had done any of it.

When he could think of nothing more to ask he turned round to the rest of the group who had been watching and listening silently. Mrs Weasley was the first to speak.

"He really has changed sides!" she exclaimed. Even Hermione was nodding in agreement now although she still looked grim.

"Shame his personality hasn't changed at all, he's still just as arrogant." Harry couldn't help smiling at her, he was glad that both of his best friends were now coming round to his way of thinking on the matter of trusting Draco.

"It all still seems very suspect to me," Mr Weasley put in. "Our families have been enemies for years and we all know what his father did to Ginny. I can't suddenly start trusting their son."

"But you heard him dear, you saw him take the potion. He can't lie," Mrs Weasley reasoned. "We can't blame him for what his father did." Mr Weasley consented the point although still glared at Draco with a good deal of dislike.

"This is all very well but we still don't know why he's done any of this," Moody interrupted suddenly. "Suppose he's been instructed by Voldemort to switch sides."

"Did Voldemort tell you to switch sides?" Harry asked quickly, hoping to put Moody's argument to rest.

"No." Draco's eyes still held an unfocussed, glassy expression as he stared back at Harry.

"But why did he do it?" Moody growled again "What on earth made him suddenly start helping you escape from Snape and the other Death Eaters last night? Why suddenly switch sides now?"

"Why did you start helping Harry last night?" Moody suddenly asked turning to Draco. Draco said nothing, although Harry could see him squirming in his seat and biting his lip in the effort not to answer.

"I don't have to answer you, it was agreed only Harry would ask questions." Draco's face twisted and he grimaced as if he was struggling with something internally. For a moment Harry was sure he saw the look of fear flit across Draco's face again, and he knew that he had to put a stop to this. Draco had trusted him, he had requested that only Harry ask the questions and Harry had agreed, he couldn't let him down now.

"Come on, why the change of heart?" Moody repeated rather angrily, leaning towards Draco so his disfigured face was mere inches from Draco's own, pale one. Again Harry saw the struggle in Draco's expression and was about to pull Moody away, when something made him hesitate.

Draco's face relaxed and he closed his eyes. There was a moment of complete silence, and even Moody's expression took on a hint of uncertainty.

Suddenly Draco's eyes flew open and at once Harry saw the glassiness was gone. Moody stumbled backwards as Draco lunged forward, snarling at him, before sinking back into the chair. Without thinking Harry leapt forward and tipped the antidote down his throat. He was vaguely aware of Moody in the background shouting "Traitor! He was using Occlumency against the potion," before a look of intense pain came rushing onto Draco's expressionless face and he collapsed forward into Harry's arms. At once Mrs Weasley and Professor McGonagall rushed to aid him and as they relieved Harry of Draco's weight he stepped back and caught a glimpse of the bandages around Draco's arm.

They were soaked in blood.

* * *

Bit of a cliffhanger there, sorry! In the next chapter the action will be moving to Grimmauld Place and several more characters will be making an appearance. Till next time then, please review!

- Sivany


	7. Just An Empty Shell

For the second time Draco awakened in the hospital wing, this time though he didn't need to look round to work out where he wa

**Disclaimer: **We all know what this is meant to say by now. Only the plotline is mine.

**Beta:** Candy Marie, who else!?

**Authors Notes:** The number of people who have this on their story alerts is incredible; I never thought it would get so popular. It's great to know so many of you are reading!

Thanks to all my reviewers: jazzmen, zaraki.chan, suki53, neverenough, Dezra, jadestar5, HiEiMySaViOr, SwarmOfFanGirls, BabeGia103, 2boysbetterthan1, thelonewolfcries. Double and triple thanks to those of you who have commented more than once. It's great to know you are still there and still enjoying it!

**Ooops! Thanks to everyone who reviewed this chapter and chapter 8 and asked what on earth was going on! What's going on is that I temporarily lost all my brain cells and managed to post the wrong chapter for chapter 7. Hopefully if you read this it will all make a little more sense. I'll try to find my brain cells in time for chapter 9 :)**

--

**Chapter 7:** Just An Empty Shell

For the second time in as many days Draco awakened in the hospital wing. This time though, he didn't need to look round to work out where he was; he remembered the events of yesterday only too clearly.

Whilst he had been under the effects of Veritaserum Moody had asked him a question he really didn't want to answer, and he had managed to use Occlumency to throw off the effects of the potion. It was a difficult thing to do, and he would have felt rather proud of his achievement if he hadn't understood the consequences of what he had done. All the testimony he had given under Veritaserum would now come under scrutiny; no one would believe that he had only started using Occlumency at the last minute and anyone who had previously trusted him would almost certainly have changed their minds now.

He wondered briefly whether Potter still believed him, or if he thought he had been lying all along as well. He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed that thought to the back of his mind. The idea that Harry no longer trusted him didn't bear thinking about. It was ironic really that after all the years of arguments and hatred he had found himself pinning all his hopes on the idea that Harry would still trust him.

Groaning, Draco buried his head in his pillow. He just couldn't face getting up and having everyone glare at him like he was about to betray them any moment. He knew though that at some point he would have to get out of bed and he briefly contemplated whether it was better to get up voluntarily now or have someone come and force him to get up later. Just as he decided on the former, he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

He rolled over in bed to see Harry quietly shutting the door behind him and he hurriedly sat up and ran his fingers through his hair; after all it was bad enough being in a hospital bed, there was no need to look a mess as well. Seeing he was awake, Harry strolled over and took a seat by the bed.

"How's your arm?" he asked.

"Fine," Draco replied a little stiffly. He found he was rather unsure how to act after what had happened yesterday. Harry though seemed unfazed and with an unexpected rush of joy Draco realised that Harry still trusted him and that the events of yesterday hadn't affected the way he was treating him.

"You've been asleep for ages, about 20 hours," he informed him. Draco had already suspected it was a day later than when he had collapsed and wasn't really surprised by this news. "After you... um, you know… I spoke to the others," Harry shifted uncomfortably, as if the memory caused him great embarrassment. "I told them you were trustworthy and that you had been telling the truth. I think most of them have decided to believe you and those that don't, well…." Harry shrugged and Draco gazed at him rather stupidly for a second. He felt he should probably say something, express at least some of the immense gratitude he felt towards Harry at that moment, but the strange new bubble of joy that had risen in his throat prevented him from speaking.

"We're not staying at Hogwarts," Harry continued quickly when Draco made no response. "It's not safe enough here, especially not for you. We're moving to the headquarters of The Order of the Phoenix."

Draco had the distinct impression from the way Harry had lowered his voice that this was an important piece of information and one that perhaps some of the others might not have wanted to share with him. Of course he knew what The Order was, all Death Eaters did, but he hadn't really given much though to the fact that it might have a headquarters and that he might actually have to go there, until now.

"Where is it?" was the only question he could think of to ask, it was a stupid one he realised as soon as it left his mouth, but it was too late then to take it back.

"I can't tell you, I'm not the secret keeper." Harry replied, shaking his head. "We can't go yet anyway, we have to wait for someone to arrive." This last piece of information was imparted with a suppressed smile and Draco knew he was supposed to ask who. For a moment he considered not rising to the bait, after all pleasing Harry Potter wasn't exactly high on his agenda, but eventually his curiosity got the better of him. The reply was worth it.

"Blaise Zabini."

"Blaise?" Draco echoed, knowing that his face was displaying a very un-Malfoy like surprise. "Why?"

"He wants to help." Harry replied simply. Draco was silent for a while whilst he thought about this. It was odd he thought that Blaise was coming out in favour of one side, he and his family had always remained rather neutral, protected from being singled out as blood traitors by his mother's status, the fact that they were Slytherins, and their friendship with several Death Eater families. Even when his sister had married a half blood no one had said anything much, after all that was when Voldemort had long been defeated and the family status was enough to ensure the comments were kept to a minimum. In fact, if it wasn't for that, Draco would have actually had Blaise down as someone rather likely to turn Death Eater; the fact that he had gone for the complete opposite was rather surprising and Draco knew there must be a good reason. He tried to formulate a way to ask what it was without seeming too obvious; after all he didn't want Harry to think he was questioning his friend's loyalties. Before he could speak though Harry sprung another question on him.

"Did you know his older sister?"

"Yes, is she helping too?" replied Draco rather surprised at the question. "She was a nice girl, she married a half blood… I mean not that it matters… but..." He trailed off and looked apologetically at Harry, who didn't say anything, he seemed to have something more important on his mind.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this but…" Harry looked away as if unsure what to say and Draco's eyes widened; he already knew what was coming next. "She and her husband were found murdered in their home about a week ago, had you not heard?"

Draco shook his head dumbly, wondering how he had missed that piece of news. Of course, she would have changed her name after she got married and he had never known what her married name was. If someone had mentioned it he wouldn't have associated the name with Blaise's sister. To his horror he suddenly felt tears spring to his eyes. Cara had always been kind to him; she had let him and Blaise borrow her broomstick when they were younger and had often taken them to Diagon Alley in the summer holidays.

He turned away from Harry, blinking furiously. He couldn't let Harry see him cry, it wasn't like him to cry at all. He seemed to be getting very emotional recently; perhaps it was just the shock. Yes, that must be it, he decided, his mind was having to cope with so many changes all at once and it was just a bit shocked, that's why he was feeling emotional. All he had to do was pull himself together.

After a moment he turned back to Harry, who had wisely remained silent as Draco struggled with his tears, but who now continued.

"After she was murdered Blaise contacted us. His mother is going into hiding somewhere but he wants to help capture those who did it. He's coming to Hogwarts at the end of the week and when he arrives we'll be leaving for the Headquarters."

"Blaise is coming here?" Draco's eyes lit up suddenly as Harry nodded. "We used to be great friends when I was younger. Then after… Well you know… My father banned me from seeing him in the holidays, didn't really work though." Draco smirked suddenly, as he remembered how he had defied his father on that one and managed not to get caught.

"Right…." said Harry rather lamely, and Draco realised too late that Harry would have no idea what he was talking about and was rather glad when Harry chose to ignore the information rather than ask follow-up questions. Draco really didn't feel like discussing his life right now. "I think Madam Pomfrey is going to insist on you having your lunch in bed, but straight afterwards you should get up. You can wear my clothes again." Draco wrinkled his nose at the thought of putting on anything other than freshly washed clothes and Harry rolled his eyes "You only wore them for an hour yesterday, I'm not giving you anymore. We'll have to arrange to get you some more later, I don't know how since you can't exactly go shopping but we'll think of something."

"Anyway I'll see you later," Harry finished suddenly, getting up quickly and heading for the door. Draco just had time for a vague "yeah" before Harry had disappeared, and Draco was left listening to the sound of his receding footsteps.

Draco was rather glad he had gone; conversations with Potter still felt extremely strange and he often felt like he was steering a rather rickety ship through rough seas that at any moment might throw up a wave big enough to capsize the entire vessel. The information Harry had given him was not unwelcome though, and he found himself looking forward to Blaise's arrival. At the moment he felt rather alone; he was no longer a Death Eater, but he also wasn't part of The Order; he was somewhere in the middle and no one trusted him. Well apart from maybe Potter, but even then there was no friendship - true, he had got on surprisingly well with Harry on several occasions in the last few days, but Harry had his own friends and he didn't need Draco. Of course, Draco told himself he didn't want Harry's friendship, he didn't want the friendship of anyone here, but that didn't stop him feeling like he was alone. At least when Blaise arrived he would have someone to talk to, an equal who wouldn't look down on him as some sort of traitor.

He ate the lunch Madam Pomfrey brought to him in silence, then pulled on Harry's clothes and retired to the Slytherin common room. He had a lot of thinking to do and he was glad he still had a familiar place to do it in. He settled on his usual spot near the currently empty fireplace and tried not to sulk too much.

--

Over the next few days Harry didn't see much of Draco. He appeared at mealtimes in the Great Hall, still wearing Harry's clothes, looking even paler than usual and always bearing the same closed off expression. He spoke only when spoken to and never once made eye contact with anyone. Mrs Weasley with her motherly nature thought he was probably missing his mother and regretted that he could not see her anymore. Others however were not so kind. Moody thought that Draco was regretting his change of heart and wished himself back with the Death Eaters. Hermione believed he thought their conversation was beneath him as they were not pure-blooded and Ron merely put it down to the fact that Malfoy was a 'pompous twat'. Harry though thought there might be something else to Draco's silence; that Draco might actually be feeling like an outcast who didn't belong. He had made several efforts to strike up a conversation with him at dinnertime, but hampered by Draco's monosyllabic answers he eventually gave up and began to agree with Ron.

He couldn't understand what was going on; he and Malfoy had actually been getting along for a while, they had worked together without killing each other and had actually managed to have conversations that were quite friendly. But now Malfoy had closed off and although he wasn't throwing insults like he used to, Harry wasn't sure it was an improvement, at least insults would have been evidence that Malfoy was still in there. At the moment Harry felt like he was looking at an empty walking shell of his former enemy.

As the days until Blaise's arrival dragged by, Hermione frequently complained that Draco was spending a lot of time in the library reading. Harry could see nothing wrong with this, but Hermione said she felt like he was watching her all the time and started bringing her books to the common room to read instead.

It wasn't until Friday that Draco finally broke his silence, and it was only by chance that Harry knew he had spoken at all. Tonks had announced at breakfast that she was going to Diagon Alley and that she would be willing to purchase anything anyone wanted. Hermione had immediately produced a large list of books she wanted to help her research the elusive R.A.B. and find out more about the protection that might be used round the Horcruxes, and Mrs Weasley had asked her to buy some new wool for jumpers she was knitting. Harry hadn't asked her to buy anything, but after breakfast had realised he could do with a new cloak and had hurried to the Entrance Hall to catch Tonks before she left.

He was just about to step into the Entrance Hall when he realised that Tonks was already talking to someone. Draco Malfoy seemed to be almost pleading with her about something and she was listening, arms crossed and stony faced, occasionally shaking her head. Harry strained to hear what was going on, but they were too far away and he had to be content with watching and wishing he had some of Fred and George's Extendable Ears on him. Eventually Tonks nodded and Harry saw Draco take something from round his neck and hand it to her with a look of gratitude. Harry was so busy wondering what it was that he didn't notice Draco had disappeared and Tonks was heading towards the door; with a shout he rushed towards her and asked about the cloak. He considered asking what Draco had wanted, but thought better of it. Whatever it was couldn't have been bad or Tonks would have refused to help, but he did wonder what it was Draco had given her. It had looked like something on a chain, but whatever it was had been too small for Harry to see. As he made his way back to the common room a few minutes later Harry wondered how he could find out.

--

The next day Draco was absent from breakfast, but Harry didn't have time to dwell too much on why as he wolfed down his bacon. They were making the journey to Grimmauld Place by Portkey in just one hour, and as usual he and Ron had left their packing till the last minute.

It was a rather flushed and flustered Harry who finally dragged his trunk down to the Entrance Hall minutes before it was time to leave. Hermione tutted as he and Ron let their heavy trunks thunk to the floor, then jerked her head at someone over Harry's shoulder. He turned to look and for a moment didn't register what he was seeing. Draco Malfoy was standing; arms folded, casually looking as though nothing unusual was going on.

Harry realised that his jaw was hanging open and quickly shut it before turning away to try and digest what he had seen. Draco had apparently got Tonks to buy him some new clothes. New Muggle clothes. Black jeans, black t-shirt and jacket, black cloak draped over what was clearly a new trunk. Of course that wasn't what was so amazing; after all Harry had seen Draco wearing something similar the night they had got the Horcrux. What had floored Harry was what Draco was wearing on his feet. They were tall, black leather boots. At first they had reminded Harry of cowboy boots, but after a moment he realised that they weren't, and that they were actually more like the sort of boots Dumbledore used to wear. Despite the fact that common convention told him only women should wear boots with heels, he had never thought they looked out of place on Dumbledore, and was now surprised to find that they actually looked quite good on Malfoy as well. He risked another look, but this time he caught Draco's eye and was treated to a rather confident smirk. As he turned away the world suddenly seemed a much better place: it looked like Draco Malfoy was back.

Draco smirked to himself as Potter turned away; obviously the new clothes had made quite an impression and since putting them on this morning Draco had to admit he was feeling a lot more like his old self. He was also beginning to realise that Potter actually found him quite attractive and in normal circumstances he might have spent a few minutes strutting around making him feel even more uncomfortable, however he was actually feeling rather nervous about seeing Blaise. He was pretty sure no one would have thought to inform him that Draco was now at Hogwarts and he wondered what his first reaction would be. Would he hate him for being part of the group that had murdered his sister? Or would everything just be like it used to be when they were at school together? He was fairly certain it would be the latter, but that didn't stop the little niggle of doubt at the back of his mind, even if on the outside he looked calm and collected.

His musings were cut short by the sound of the huge front doors creaking open and moments later a tall boy with longish black hair came striding into sight. Professor McGonagall hurried forward to greet him along with some of the other Order members and Draco moved towards where Harry and his friends were standing waiting to be noticed.

--

Harry felt himself tense as Malfoy stepped along side him, although he had no idea why. He shook himself a little and shook the hand Blaise offered in his direction, wondering how he would react when he spotted Draco.

When he finally did, his look of confusion was quickly replaced by a grin as Draco flashed him his trademark smirk.

"Draco!" exclaimed Blaise, recovering quickly and kissing Draco on each cheek. There were many raised eyebrows from the onlookers, but Draco just looked vaguely amused.

"Blaise," he replied carefully, before any pretence at courteous detachment was dropped and the two began talking fast. Much to everyone's surprise though they weren't speaking English; Harry thought it sounded rather like French, a suspicion that was confirmed when they finally stopped long enough for Hermione to blurt out:

"I didn't know you spoke French!"

For a moment Harry was sure he saw a look of panic flicker across Blaise's face, Draco however, seemed unmoved.

"So you speak French?" he drawled at Hermione. "You understood what we were saying?"

"No." Hermione shook her head frowning. "You speak too fast, I'm not that fluent. All I picked up was the word beautiful and a few…erm…" she blushed slightly "bad words."

Draco grinned wickedly as Harry and Ron snickered at Hermione's embarrassment "I think it's probably a good job you're not fluent in French if a few 'bad words' make you blush." Draco drawled, making Harry wonder what he and Blaise could have been talking about that was so bad. "Now don't we have somewhere to be?"

Harry shook his head as Draco and Blaise started another more hushed conversation; this was a complete turn around from the Draco who had been moping about the castle, barely saying a word all week. Harry wondered if it was an act; did he just want to save face in front of Blaise? Pretend everything was normal? Harry didn't really have much time to think about it because Professor McGonagall was calling them all over to take hold of the Portkey that would transport them to Grimmauld Place.

They clustered round the book that was used as transport between Hogwarts and Grimmauld Place, Harry trying to ignore the fact that Draco was pressed up against him on one side but feeling almost as uncomfortable as he had in the fiery passage on the moor. A long slow minute ticked by, and Harry could feel himself getting distinctly hot and flustered when he felt the familiar jerk behind his navel, and a moment later found himself being flung onto the cold pavement outside the Order's headquarters.

--

Draco looked around as they landed on a stone pavement, outside what looked to him like an ordinary row of houses. A piece of parchment was thrust into his hand almost before he had time to think and he just had time to read the words "12 Grimmauld Place" before the note burst into flames.

Immediately a large, old looking house seemed to blossom in the space between two of the ordinary houses. It had the look of a house that had once been very grand, but had been left to become run down, before someone had tried to restore it and tidy up the outside.

Professor McGonagall hustled them all up the path and through the front door, warning them to be quiet. Draco got only the vaguest glimpse of the hall and stairs before he found himself in a large kitchen, with the door closed behind him and everyone chatting at once as if they had just been allowed to break a vow of silence.

"Thank goodness she didn't wake up this time," he heard Ron grumble. "I wish someone would find a way to get that portrait off the wall, it's stupid having to tiptoe around just to stop that old hag from screaming."

Draco was desperate to ask someone what Ron was talking about and why they had to be quiet in the hallway, but not liking anyone to think him ignorant of anything he held his tongue and hung back from the group as they gathered round the table to examine some scrolls.

There had been a few people in the kitchen already when they entered, other Order members Draco assumed, and after a while they noticed him and began throwing him some very curious looks. He had to admit he was rather relieved and more than a little grateful, when Harry suggested they all take their luggage up to their rooms.

The burst of questions about his presence began even before the door shut behind them and it took rather a lot of will power for Draco to pretend he hadn't heard them and follow the others along the hall and up the stairs. As they passed a large curtain that seemed to be concealing part of the wall, Harry pointed and whispered, "she's behind there, shhhh." Draco wondered who 'she' was, but was no more inclined to ask now than he had been before and they climbed the stairs in silence.

At the top of the first flight of stairs the corridor branched off in both directions and Draco could see a number of doors leading to various rooms. Hermione seemed to know where she was going and immediately disappeared into one of the rooms on the left, whilst Ron and Harry held a brief whispered conversation, during which Draco and Blaise stood away from them, trying to look aloof as they inspected some of the portraits on the wall, one of which bore a striking resemblance to Draco's mother.

Harry and Ron were apparently discussing which room to give them, for when their conversation ended Ron took his trunk into the nearest room on the right whilst Harry showed Draco and Blaise to a room further along the corridor. After giving brief instructions on how to get to the bathroom and informing them that he and Ron would be sleeping in the room next door, he disappeared.

"So," Draco began when Harry had departed, "I never expected you to be joining in the fight on Potter's side."

Blaise, who was struggling with the fastenings on his trunk, raised his eyebrows at him "I could say the same to you."

"Yeah well," he sauntered over and with deft fingers released the fastenings on the trunk, before leaning nonchalantly against the wall, "things change."

"Exactly." Blaise nodded, half to himself, and began to open the trunk lid, but was stopped short by Draco's boot pushing it closed and resting firmly on the top.

Draco stared down at the figure kneeling on the floor. They both knew what was about to happen, but they also knew there were certain things that had to be said first, certain games that had to be played. Those were the rules and they were never broken.

"Of course not everything changes," he drawled, as Blaise straightened up, brushing imaginary dust off his robes.

"No, I suppose not." Blaise concluded, moments before his mouth crashed against Draco's and they were suddenly pulling at each other's clothes. Urgently. Desperately. Draco reached up and swept his hands through Blaise's hair. He hadn't done this in a long time. Too long. He moaned against Blaise's mouth, as the other man ran his hands over smooth skin.

He wanted to be in control. He always was. He wouldn't let himself lose control now.

Within a moment he had managed to manoeuvre them round the abandoned trunk and they toppled onto the bed, with Blaise underneath. For a moment he looked down at the dark haired man below him and thought about saying something, but then Blaise's hands were tugging at his t-shirt and there didn't seem to be much point.

--

It was almost two hours later, and lunch was being prepared, when Draco finally made his way back down to the kitchen.

"Where've you been?" Was the suspicious greeting he got from Moody, and Mrs Weasley gave him a strange look, almost as if she were disappointed in him.

"Unpacking," Draco replied sullenly, refusing to meet the older man's eyes. Moody was trying Legilimency on him again, but he had secrets in his head that he would allow no one to see. He thanked his lucky stars that Bellatrix had at least done one useful thing in her life when she taught him how to harness his unusual gift of Occlumency.

"Make yourself useful and peel those carrots." Mrs Weasley was saying, and occupied as he was with glaring at Moody to let him know just what he thought of him trying to read his mind, Draco nearly missed the fact that this was directed at him. He looked at her blankly, knowing neither a spell, nor any other way of peeling carrots and she sighed.

"Use this," she said, handing him what looked to Draco like a rather odd, chunky razor. He regarded it suspiciously, then realised exactly what he was being asked to do.

Manual labour? This was house elves' work! He shouldn't have to do petty tasks like peel carrots. He wasn't about to lower himself to the level of Potter and his friends who were currently at the table, peeling potatoes.

"Go on, get started." Mrs Weasley's voice silenced the complaints he hadn't even begun to voice and blankly he picked up a carrot and sneaked a sideways look at Potter to see exactly how he was supposed to use this strange tool he had been given. He couldn't believe he was doing this, but Mrs Weasley's tone, whilst not harsh, had implied that there was no room for argument and Draco found himself steadily working his way through the pile of carrots. It wasn't that hard a task once he got used to it, but it was rather boring, especially since Potter and his friends were completely ignoring him. He was rather relieved when Blaise turned up ten minutes later and was told to help him.

As they worked, Draco told him how he had come to be at Grimmauld Place at all. He spoke in French. Granger obviously understood parts of it, for she looked over once or twice as if she was listening, but Draco wasn't worried. It was nothing she hadn't heard before, and if there was anything he wanted to say he didn't want her to know he switched to Latin as smoothly as if they were the same language. Granger had looked surprised first time he had done this; he supposed having Muggle parents she hadn't got half the education she should have had.

--

Harry was listening to Draco and Blaise's conversation, not because he could tell what they were saying, for he couldn't, but because there was something strangely compelling about the way Draco's voice sounded when he was talking French. It was softer and lighter than his normal voice, usually he sounded like he was talking with a sneer even when he wasn't - there was a constant condescending edge to his tone that disappeared when he spoke in French. Why he had even noticed this Harry didn't know. It wasn't like he wanted to make a habit out of listening to Draco's voice, whether he was speaking French or English, but now he'd noticed it he didn't seem to be able to stop listening.

He risked another glance over at Draco and immediately wished he hadn't. Why did Draco look like he'd just been shagged? His clothes were rumpled, his hair was messy, his cheeks were flushed. Why did he look so gorgeous?

Harry clutched at the table for support and closed his eyes.

"I did not just think that," he screamed inside his brain. "I don't care what Draco looks like." He tried to compose himself; Draco had not just been shagged and he was definitely not gorgeous. Where had that come from? He was beginning to feel like his thoughts weren't under his control and he wondered briefly if Draco was inside his head again, playing games with his mind. But no, Hermione had said he would know if that was happening and be able to stop it. He was just feeling a bit run down, that was all; the stress of finding the Horcruxes was getting to him. Yes, that must be it, but all the same Draco had looked….

"You alright mate?" Ron's voice cut short what Harry felt could have been another rather embarrassing thought. His eyes flew open and he realised his knuckles were white where he was gripping the table.

"Yes fine. Sorry, what were you saying?" He snatched up a potato and began to peel it vigorously, smiling brightly at everyone. Draco was looking at him strangely, but Harry kept his eyes firmly on the tabletop in front of him. Luckily Ron seemed convinced nothing major was wrong and began to talk about Bill's wedding, meaning Harry only had to nod in agreement at the appropriate points to make everything look fine. He was greatly relieved when lunch was ready and he was able to take a seat at the table as far away from Draco as possible.

--

It was a noisy meal considering the number of people who squashed round the table. Apart from those who had come from Hogwarts there were already several Order members at the house who joined in the meal. Harry found himself relaxing again and joining in willingly with the laughter and jokes.

It was about halfway through the meal that it happened. Harry was just helping himself to more of Mrs Weasley's delicious stew, whilst Ron ladled out more vegetable soup when there was a sudden outburst from Blaise at the other end of the table.

"I know I'm gorgeous Draco, but why are you staring at me like that?"

"Keep dreaming Blaise." Draco retorted rolling his eyes "What have you done to your hair?"

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"You look like a girl." Draco snorted.

"You can talk. Look at your hands!"

Draco stretched out one hand in front of him and examined it, along with everyone else at the table. Blaise was right, his long thin fingers and carefully groomed nails, whilst obviously belonging to a male, did look distinctly feminine.

"See what I mean," Blasie laughed, throwing a bread roll at Draco's head, which he caught with Seeker's reflexes. "You're so gay."

Silence. Even Ron paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth. Everyone seemed to be waiting for some sort of outburst of denial from Draco. None came.

"So are you," he retorted throwing the bread roll back with a deft flick of his wrist. It hit Blaise right in the middle of the forehead before falling into his bowl, splattering him, and those around him, with vegetable soup. The look of surprise on Blaise's face was so funny that everyone started laughing and the tense atmosphere was suddenly broken.

Everyone went back to eating, as Blaise fussed around trying to clean himself up. Harry, however, couldn't believe what he had just heard. Draco and Blaise had both announced that they were gay and no one seemed the least bit bothered. He turned to Hermione in confusion; she was looking just as bewildered but shrugged as Harry met her eyes.

"Apparently it isn't a big deal in the wizarding world," she reasoned, raising her eyebrows. "I would never have though of Malfoy like that, although now I do think about it does seem kind of obvious."

As she went back to her stew Harry turned to look at Draco who was now laughing as Blaise attempted to sponge down Tonks' robes for her. He didn't look feminine, which is how Harry had always assumed gay guys looked, but he did look well groomed. White blonde hair perfectly framing his pale face with its delicate features and silver grey eyes. Tight black t-shirt and jeans hugging his slightly-too-thin frame. Long slender fingers that pushed his silky smooth hair back from his face as his lips curved into that wicked looking smirk.

Harry shook his head suddenly and concentrated on his stew. What was he doing thinking about Malfoy like that again? What did it matter how Malfoy looked? All this talk of people being gay was getting to him, he decided; for the rest of the meal he kept his head down only looking up when someone spoke to him.

--

After lunch Blaise went upstairs to write a letter to his mother to let her know he had arrived safely, leaving Draco alone in the kitchen with Mrs Weasley. Everyone else had gone to unpack or disappeared on various other tasks, but Draco had claimed he had already unpacked and he knew after the little revelations at lunch that if he let it be known he hadn't people wouldn't take long to put two and two together.

He sat at the table, resting his head in his hands and reflected on what had happened that morning. Potter was acting more and more strangely. First he had been friendly, then he had become more distant, which Draco knew was his fault, then when they had arrived Draco had thought he was going to start being friendly again, but instead he now just seemed to be avoiding him. It was odd, and although Draco told himself he didn't need Potter's friendship, especially now Blaise had arrived, and had almost convinced himself he didn't want it, he still didn't like the idea of Harry ignoring him completely. He had refused to look at him all the way through lunch, and had gone off afterwards with his friends, not even glancing up when he walked right in front of him. Draco was just beginning to get himself worked up for a good rant to himself about who on earth Potter thought he was that made him high and mighty enough to ignore him, when he was interrupted.

"If you're going to hang around here you can at least help with the washing up." It was Mrs Weasley's voice, and for a moment Draco considered leaving, but realised he had nowhere to go; then he thought about refusing, but realised that was pointless, so he began inexpertly stacking the plates and carrying them to the sink. Mrs Weasley appeared to be washing up by hand rather than magic and when he'd finished clearing the table she pointed to a tea towel on a rail in the corner.

"Make a start on the drying up, would you?" Silently Draco retrieved the cloth and began to dry the stacks of washed dishes.

"How's your arm?" Mrs Weasley was obviously not used to working in silence.

"Fine," he replied flatly, hoping she would get the hint and leave him to his own thoughts.

"How's your room? Is everything ok?" Apparently she wasn't used to taking hints either.

"Fine," he said again, then when she looked at him, although there was no reprimand in her eyes, he felt strangely uncomfortable about his rudeness and made an effort to say something else. "Lunch was nice." He wasn't used to paying compliments, but it was the first neutral topic he could think of to comment on.

"Thank you dear. It's nice to be appreciated." Draco blinked in alarm at the fact that she'd just called him 'dear'. His own mother had never even called him 'dear'.

His mother. He had just left without saying goodbye. Not that there could have been a goodbye. Not in the circumstances. But what if she thought he was dead? She had risked her own life to save his last year, obviously she had loved him, but what would she think of him now he had betrayed his father by leaving the Death Eaters and betrayed her by leaving home? He didn't care about betraying his father, but he felt a pang of regret for his mother. It must have shown in his eyes for when he focused again Mrs Weasley was looking at him in concern.

"Are you alright?" she said softly.

"I was just thinking… I mean.." Draco trailed off, suddenly realising what he had been about to say. At once his mouth snapped shut, along with his mind. He didn't think Mrs Weasley would try and use Legimency on him, but he knew she would know what he had done from his eyes. "Nothing. I'm fine," he said shortly, and went back to drying the dishes. He was grateful that this time she didn't try and push for him to talk. He finished his task in silence, then went off to find something to occupy himself until dinner.

--

Harry was reading in the study. He liked this room best of all the rooms in this awful old house since it was one of the only ones that had been completely refurnished and redecorated, and with a bright fire in the grate the comfy red sofas were warm and welcoming. There was also an impressive array of books, stacked neatly on the many bookshelves; the only thing Harry didn't like about the room was the huge tapestry that covered the wall behind him. They had tried to take it down, but like the picture in the hall it seemed to be magically stuck to the wall with an enchantment none of them could break.

He had been there alone for about an hour when Draco entered. For a moment he looked as if he was about to leave again, but Harry looked up, and pleased that no thought about Draco's appearance crossed his mind, greeted him with a smile even warmer than he intended it to be.

"Hi," he said. It was a little feeble but he couldn't really think of anything else to say.

"Not much to do is there?" Draco drawled, wandering over to the bookcase and idly scanning the titles. "How long are we going to be stuck here for?" Harry felt a small tug of annoyance, although the sensation came as something of a relief. It was good to be back on familiar territory with Draco.

"I don't know. However long it takes, so you better get used to it," he snapped. "If you've nothing to do you're welcome to read a book."

Draco snorted and whipped round. "How gracious of you to give me permission."

"Well they are my books." Harry smirked, suddenly realising that Draco had no idea of this fact, and enjoying his look of surprise. "I do own the house."

At this last statement Draco's mouth fell open in astonishment, and Harry chuckled inwardly in delight. It didn't take Draco long to recover though, and he strode across to where Harry was sitting to peer up at the tapestry above the sofa. In the long silence that followed Harry got bored and went back to his reading.

"I'm on here." Draco's voice came unexpectedly and he was speaking softly; for a moment Harry almost thought he heard vulnerability in his tone. "So is my mother." Harry looked up and saw Draco's eyes roaming over the tapestry.

"My mad aunt's there too," he sneered suddenly, all vulnerability gone from his voice, so that Harry was almost convinced he had imagined it before. "And that Slytherin headmaster. Shame it's got all these holes in though." He paused for a minute as if contemplating something. "I guess that's where Tonks would be, someone obviously didn't want her on there." He knelt on the sofa next to where Harry was sitting and jabbed at a hole in the tapestry. Without waiting for any confirmation or denial from Harry his eyes wandered on. "Oh look, you're here too."

"WHAT!" Harry stood up so fast that his book went flying across the room. He'd looked at that tapestry with Sirius two years ago, surely he would have noticed if he was on it back then? Besides his mother was Muggle born, Sirius' mother would never have allowed her on the tapestry. These thoughts tore through his head in the split second it took him to climb up onto the sofa next to Malfoy, who was looking at him with vague amusement.

"Maybe it's not you," he said scrutinising the tapestry again. "They'd be far too old. Whoever it is had your last name though, is it a relative?" Harry gazed at where Draco was pointing and saw why he was unsure who he was looking at. There was a branch of the Black family line, and next to it, linked by a marriage line, was a man whose surname was Potter. Coming off the marriage line was a single line with the words '1 son' underneath.

Harry stared and for a moment could find no words as he wondered how he had missed this and how Sirius had failed to mention it. "My father," he said finally, touching the tapestry absently with his finger as if trying to feel some connection through the faded gold embroidery.

Draco nodded, but didn't laugh and Harry suddenly had a strange urge to lean into him, to have him put his arms around him and tell him everything would be ok. He didn't though. He just knelt, silently, shoulder to shoulder with his former enemy, until time just seemed to slip past without affecting them at all.

Later Remus came in and the spell was broken.

Harry's legs had gone numb.

--

I like the ending to this chapter so I hope you all like it too :-) Reviews will be much loved!

Sivany


	8. Somewhere I Lost Myself

**Disclaimer: **Only the plotline is mine. I don't own Harry or Draco sadly.

**Beta:** Candy Marie, of course!

**Authors Notes:** Sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter posted, I hope you're all still with me. Thanks again to all my reviewers: The Aqua Mirror, Neverenuff (Yes, you're right, that last chapter was the one where it starts to differ a lot from the original version I posted), orene treke, SwarmOfFanGirls, BabeGia103, Felske (I laughed so hard at your review! I can just imagine the scene if it had actually been a fish!), Lost in the wing of angels and suki53. XD Glad you're all enjoying it!

* * *

**Chapter 8:** Somewhere I Lost Myself

The next few days passed peacefully enough. Draco spent most of his free time with Blaise, and Harry was usually with his own friends, playing Wizarding Chess or Exploding Snap in the moments when they weren't researching the Horcruxes.

Draco didn't really speak much to anyone in those few days; not even Blaise could get him to talk. He hated the way conversations would stop whenever he entered the room. He hated the way scrolls would be quickly rolled up, or pushed to one side, and loud, inane conversations would suddenly start about what was for dinner, or whose turn it was to go shopping. Most of all though, he found himself hating the way Harry gave him strange, half confused looks every time he went near him. Since that afternoon in the library Harry had barely spoken more than two words at a time to Draco, and no matter how much Draco told himself he didn't care, every time he was in a room with Harry he would close off his thoughts and emotions completely, locking himself away inside his mind so that he didn't have to think about the fact that Harry no longer seemed to want to speak to him, and didn't have to consider why this bothered him quite so much.

He knew that all this was making him short tempered with Blaise. Every time Blaise attempted to get him to open up, he would snap out something about being fine, and usually left the room straight away to hide himself away in the study, curling up on the couch where he had found Harry a few days before to lose himself in one of the vast collection of Latin and French books which graced the shelves.

The twinges of guilt he felt at the way he was treating Blaise only made him feel worse. Blaise had always been his closest friend, his equal, the one who knew more about him than anyone else in the world. True, he had always held quite a lot back even from him, but he had also told him a lot of things he would never have dreamed of telling anyone else. Blaise had never let him down, but now he felt strangely like he was letting _him_ down. It was a new feeling to Draco; he was used to feeling like a disappointment to his father, but letting down the one person in the world who he considered a friend was something new and very uncomfortable. Draco locked this feeling away in his mind and tried not to think about it.

Despite all this there was one time of day that he found himself looking forward to more and more as time passed. Everyday after lunch he would stay behind in the kitchen with Mrs Weasley after everyone else had gone and help her wash and tidy up.

The silences between them were no longer oppressive, no longer heavy with words that were left unspoken. Draco had gradually come to feel that no words were needed and the silence was now a companionable sort of silence, where he was free to lose himself in his own thoughts without fear of anyone trying to invade them. Mrs Weasley, he knew instinctively, respected his privacy, and sometimes he even felt she might care a little about him.

Whether she did or she didn't, Draco was only certain that when he was around Mrs Weasley he felt accepted and safe.

Sometimes they spoke, and once or twice Draco let his guard down and revealed things about his past life that he had told no one else. Once he had admitted that his nights were haunted by nightmares, which came whenever he had to sleep alone in a room. After that admission he had been embarrassed and had not spoken at all the next day, but slowly he was coming to realise that Mrs Weasley was not judging him, she did not think him weak because of what he had told her. It was a relief. A relief to have admitted something he had never spoken of before, and a relief not to be judged and found wanting.

After that day they began to speak more and over the course of the next few days they covered many topics. At first they were fairly neutral, but gradually Draco began to speak about his family and his home life; sometimes they even touched on his experiences of being a Death Eater, and just occasionally they mentioned the night he had saved Harry. Mrs Weasley soon knew things Draco had thought he would never tell anyone, things that he kept safe behind occluded walls from everyone else in the house, including Blaise. He sometimes admitted to himself that it was a relief to finally talk about these things, but sometimes he worried about showing such weakness. He had been taught never to show his thoughts and feelings to anyone, only the weak and the foolish ever let people see their weaknesses.

One other thing came out of his talks with Mrs Weasley and that was greater understanding of his gift at Occlumency. His Aunt Bellatrix had taught him that the more he practised, the better he would become and that he should make sure he always kept his defences as strong as possible. Now Mrs Weasley tried to show him that there was no need for such precautions. He had indeed got better with practise and now his talents were so strong that he must learn to rein them in, to only use them when they were needed. He admitted to her that sometimes when he wasn't even trying he could sense other people's minds and emotions, and although she seemed surprised, her only word on the subject was that he must be careful and not use his talents to put other people at a disadvantage. It was the opposite of what his Aunt would have said, and although Draco wasn't about to promise anything, he at least could admit that Mrs Weasley's approach was the right one.

One thing Mrs Weasley gave Draco, which he never felt he had before, was acceptance. Even when he admitted his weaknesses she never rejected him, never told him he was pathetic. She seemed to think they were normal and it was a new experience for Draco to feel that he wasn't disappointing someone.

On the fifteenth day of this new and strange existence Draco found himself sitting at the table after dinner, being told that things were going to change. Up until now the house had been crowded, there weren't enough beds to go around and everyday was filled with chatter and bustle, so that despite everything that was happening outside Draco had a strange feeling that he had never been around people who were so content with their lives.

Now most of the people were leaving. They all had lives to get back to and for the first time Draco found out that they had been staying only to be prepared for any repercussions of taking the Horcrux. Now, because there had been none, and because no one was any closer to working out how the thing could be destroyed, they had to get back to some semblance of normality. Of course there would still be Order meetings at the house, still things for them to do, but they would no longer all be living under the same roof.

Everyone, except Remus and Tonks, would be going back to their homes, including Mrs Weasley. Draco met her eyes across the table and for once he didn't stop the emotion showing in his eyes; he knew he looked distressed. For a brief moment Mrs Weasley smiled softly at him, then she mentioned that she would divide her days between Grimmauld Place and The Burrow and although she was addressing Harry and his friends more than him, a tiny bit of Draco told him that just maybe she didn't want to abandon him totally.

It was a stupid thought, he told himself. If he weren't here she would probably have done exactly the same thing. After all Ron was her son and Harry was important to her, she wouldn't just leave them and not come back regularly. Besides why should she care about him, a former Death Eater whose father had taken every opportunity to insult her family?

Angry with himself for thinking such weak thoughts, Draco went up to his room and lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, until he dozed off and then awoke to find the light outside growing dim and a tall figure standing over him.

"You ok?" asked the figure, in Blaise's voice.

"Sure, why shouldn't I be?" Draco answered, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look up at Blaise as he sat down on the bed.

"You didn't look it after dinner."

"I'm fine," Draco snapped, a little more harshly than he intended. He saw Blaise raise one eyebrow and directed his gaze down to the bedcovers so he didn't have to look at him. What was left of the evening light was filtering through the blinds and making patterns on the sheets.

"Liar." Blaise gave him a twisted sort of smile, and raised a hand to tuck back the blonde strands of hair that were falling in Draco's eyes. "Even Potter's worried about you."

Draco flopped back onto the bed so he was staring at the ceiling and furrowed his brow. "I doubt that somehow."

"Oh, he is." Blaise almost seemed to be smirking as he brought his head directly over Draco's, blocking out the view of the ceiling. "He's not the only one either."

Draco looked up at his friend, noticing how the golden light of sunset was dancing in his jet-black hair. He wanted to rise a hand and entwine his fingers in the curls at the nape of Blaise's neck, but he held back and instead raised an eyebrow and said: "Oh really? Who else might be?"

"Well between you and me…" Blaise lowered his head a few inches so their noses were almost touching. "You're acting a little oddly. Are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

Draco sighed and unfocused his eyes so he was no longer gazing directly at Blaise. "I'm a reformed Death Eater, who nobody trusts, and nobody cares about. No one here really likes me, they just tolerate me and if you weren't here I'd be completely alone. What's right?"

Blaise smiled. "There, that wasn't too hard, was it? Your mind is so closed off I'm sure everyone can feel it even when they aren't trying to look inside. Besides I am here, so you're not alone."

At this Draco frowned darkly, "Maybe I just don't want anyone to see what I'm thinking. I don't want people to see my memories, I don't want them to know about my past."

The smile on Blaise's lips did not falter, although it did become slightly more wistful. "I know more about your past than anyone here. I know I don't know it all…" he continued as Draco opened his mouth to object again. "But I don't care about your past and I certainly don't give a fuck whether you're a Death Eater or not. I _know_ you, Draco, so open up."

Grinning, Draco snaked his arms around Blaise's neck. He felt suddenly light and happy. His friendship with Blaise was just that: a friendship, but it was one born out of mutual respect, of equality, of openness, or at least more openness than Draco had ever allowed himself to give to anyone else.

Blaise was right; he wasn't alone, at least not at the moment. For now he could pull himself out of his mind and set himself free.

His fingers entwined in Blaise's hair as he pulled the other man's head down and captured his lips with his own.

For now, for tonight, he would not be alone.

Tomorrow, when he awoke and untangled himself from the man slumbering next to him and dressed quietly and crept down the stairs before anyone awoke, he would be alone again. Alone in a mind he allowed no one to see.

For now though, tomorrow was a long way away.

--

Harry sat in the kitchen with Ron and Hermione discussing what had been talked about in the earlier meeting. Everyone was leaving, and even though Tonks and Remus were staying it was possible they would leave after a few days and then there would be just the five of them.

"Great," said Ron "That means we have to deal with Malfoy on our own."

"He's not actually being any trouble," Harry pointed out. "Haven't you noticed he's been acting a bit… strange?"

Ron snorted, "When did Malfoy ever act normal?"

"Harry's right," piped up Hermione, and Harry shot her a grateful look. "When Blaise first arrived Malfoy was talking more, but now he's stopped again. His mind is just as closed off as when we were at Hogwarts, he's been shutting it down more and more. He's very powerful at Occlumency, perhaps a bit too powerful for his own good. You can practically feel how closed off he is whenever you get near him. It's actually slightly creepy, can't you feel it?"

"Don't tell me you're worried about him." Ron rolled his eyes. "He wouldn't waste a second worrying about you."

"Yes well, I'd like to think I'm slightly better than him," Hermione snapped back, and Harry thought it wise to change the topic of conversation before it descended into an argument.

Later he left Ron and Hermione alone, claiming to be tired and wanting an early night. In reality he was actually getting out of their way. In fact he was thinking of moving out of Ron's room now that there would be spare bedrooms available. It was a tiny room, hardly big enough for two single beds, and he wouldn't need much of an excuse to move to the one on the other side of Draco and Blaise's room. Despite their constant bickering, Ron and Hermione were actually growing closer as a couple and Harry didn't begrudge them it at all. Sometimes he feared what might happen if they ever broke up, but for the most part he was happy for them, and took great delight in inventing excuses to leave them alone together. Sometimes he did miss feeling that same closeness to Ginny - there were some things even two best friends weren't a substitute for - but when he thought of Ginny now he couldn't imagine feeling that close to her again. There had been something there with Ginny, he did love her, but he was beginning to think he had loved her fire and her passion more than he had actually loved her. His love had changed back into the sisterly love he had always felt; sometimes he felt the emptiness of the gap it had left in his life as an ache deep inside of him. Sometimes though he thought of her, and remembered how beautiful and full of life she was and wondered why he didn't love her anymore. He hoped she didn't love him anymore either. Was there something wrong with him?

He fell asleep wondering about this, but the next day when he woke up with the sunrise his first thought was of Draco and his strange behaviour. Knowing he would never get back to sleep whilst this was puzzling him, especially with Ron snoring loudly just a few feet away, he decided to get up and go downstairs early.

After pulling on the jeans and t-shirt he had cast on the floor before he went to bed, he padded barefoot down the stairs. The first thing he noticed was that the kitchen door was ajar, and a candle was burning on the other side. Silently, so as not to wake Mrs Black, he crept to the door and pushed it open to see Malfoy sitting at the table with his back to the door. On hearing it open he turned round and for a moment Harry got the distinct impression that Malfoy was checking him out.

He felt his cheeks redden under Malfoy's gaze, especially when he realised how he must look, considering he was wearing yesterday's clothes and hadn't even made any attempt to make his hair look decent. Then he caught himself. Why did it matter what Malfoy thought of his appearance? He closed the door and slipped into a seat besides Malfoy.

--

Draco, lost in thought, felt Harry approach before he heard him. At least he felt the dim shape of his mind. It happened sometimes when he was feeling emotional and wasn't concentrating, he would perform Legilimency without even trying. Sometimes he could actually see emotions or thoughts that other people were hiding and sometimes he could just feel that they were there, a collection of memories, thoughts and feelings that moved around on the edge of his consciousness. He pulled himself away, composed himself, turned on cue as the door opened and immediately lost all composure.

Harry was gorgeous.

He had noticed before that he was good looking. First that night when they were getting the Horcrux, then at times since then when Harry had been smiling, or laughing, or concentrating hard, or running his hands absently through his hair. Just little flickers of something inside that told Draco Harry was quite cute, but now suddenly there was something about him that was much more than that.

His hair was sticking up in all directions, his face was still flushed from sleep, his clothes were rumpled and he didn't even have any shoes on, but instead of looking a mess, Harry just looked sexy.

As he dragged his eyes over Harry's body he realised that Harry had noticed and was blushing. _"How cute," _he thought, smirking to himself as Harry sat down next to him. He looked more composed now, but Draco stored that little blush away in his memory to think about later.

"You're up early. You ok?" Harry sounded casual but Draco could sense there was something more behind the question. He nodded in reply; after all he wasn't about to let Potter in on any of his secrets.

"You know, I don't think I ever thanked you."

Draco blinked in confusion and turned to Harry, wondering where that statement had suddenly come from. Seeing his bewildered expression Harry hastened to explain.

"For that night I mean. For saving my life. For helping me get the Horcrux. For saving my life again. For getting us back to Hogwarts. For… well everything really. I just realised I'd never said it and I thought I should. I am grateful for it."

He seemed to be gazing at him anxiously, as if unsure how Draco might react to this outburst. For a moment Draco was unsure how he was going to react himself, and wondered if Harry was mocking him in some way, but when he looked into his eyes he realised he was being genuine, and he relaxed.

"Thank you for believing me," he said rather awkwardly. He was not used to thanking people for things, let alone someone who had previously been his enemy. Harry looked rather surprised, as if this wasn't something he expected to be thanked for; as if this wasn't something he even felt he should be thanked for.

"How could I not trust you?"

This time it was Draco's turn to look surprised. He could think of any number of reasons why Harry shouldn't have trusted him. Heck, even he didn't think he would have trusted him in that situation. Seeing the look, Harry sighed.

"You had already saved my life when I was duelling Snape, then you turned up out of nowhere, threw away your robes and told me you wouldn't be needing them anymore. That pretty much covered it all, although having you Apparate onto the back of my broomstick wasn't the pleasantest experience of my life."

"It wasn't all fun and games for me either if you remember. I nearly got burnt alive," Draco smirked. "I should have known you'd be riding a broom. Apparating into thin air is not funny."

He glanced sideways at Harry, who was sniggering slightly to himself, and suddenly broke into a grin. "I think I'd lost my mind that night."

"Do you regret it?"

Draco looked over at Harry, who had stopped sniggering and was now looking at him with a mixture of hope and something Draco didn't quite recognise in his eyes.

"Not for one minute," he replied, and as Harry smiled back at him he knew with absolute certainty, that no matter what happened, that was the truth.

* * *

I really had fun writing this end scene so I hope you enjoy reading it! I love the little moment Harry and Draco share and they'll definitely be more of these coming up in later chapters. Let me know what you think!

Sivany


	9. Sorry!

Thanks to my wonderful reviewers who were obviously paying more attention than me I have realised I made a mistake with chapte

I'm so sorry everyone! Thanks to my wonderful reviewers, who were obviously paying more attention than me, I have realised I made a mistake with chapter 7. I posted an old version instead of the new version but this mistake was only noticeable once chapter 8 had been posted because it didn't follow on properly from the old version. I've now updated chapter 7. If you read it everything will make a lot more sense. Now if you'll excuse me I must go and iron my hands as punishment :P


End file.
